


Reconstruction Site

by Vetiver



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Baking, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Smut, Everyone lives at the upstate compound, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Minor Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Scientist Wrangler Darcy Lewis, Thor went for the head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 84,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vetiver/pseuds/Vetiver
Summary: If Thor went for the head, nobody got dusted, and Jane Foster got called in to help rescue Tony Stark, Peter Parker and Dr. Strange from space. Darcy is initially a little wary of being on the same compound as the former Winter Soldier, but the real Bucky Barnes is less scary and a lot hotter than she'd expected. Starts as an Infinity War fix-it and gets fluffy once our two leads get to know each other.Chapters alternate between Darcy's and Bucky's POV. I borrowed the title from the Weakerthans song of the same name. It gives me 'recovering Bucky' vibes.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 964
Kudos: 869





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will take a few chapters for Darcy and Bucky to wind up in the same place, for reasons that will become obvious.

“Oh shit.” Darcy Lewis might not be an astrophysicist, but she’d been working with Jane enough years to know that the readings showing up on the screens were something huge. Multiple somethings. “Jane. You’d better look at this. Like, right the fuck now.”

“The same signature as last night?” Jane was sitting in front of two other computer screens, her fingers flying as she worked on notes. They’d hit a bunch of crazy anomalies in their readings just after supper the day before – evening their time, afternoon back in the States – that had lined up with the images exploding all over social media and the news. A big black donut-looking spaceship over New York. Later into the night, there had been a similar reading over Edinburgh, but without any supplementary evidence other than a vague report of something having crashed through the roof of Waverley Station in the middle of town.

Darcy took a deep breath. “Um. Yes and no?” That finally got Jane’s full attention, and she wheeled her chair over to see what Darcy couldn’t stop staring at. “Whatever it is, it brought friends. A lot of them.”

Jane zoomed in on the display. “That’s Wakanda. That’s an army, descending on Wakanda.”

“Why there?” New York kind of made sense, in a sick sort of way. Edinburgh had seemed like an anomaly – not to mention way too close for comfort, even though it had to be at least a thousand miles from central Scotland up to the north of Norway, where she and Jane had been working for the past few years. But Wakanda? Darcy didn’t know much about the place. “Isn’t that the one where their king got killed and there was some big manhunt for that Winter Soldier dude, and like half the Avengers wound up on the most wanted list?”

“Darcy, focus!”

Jane’s tone brought her attention back to the present. “Sorry. Yes. War of the Worlds shit. I hope the good guys are there.” These days, she wasn’t even sure who she should be including under that list.

They both stared at the monitors for a couple of minutes, before Jane snapped back into action and started scribbling notes and listing off readings for Darcy to print out. Almost as fast as things came off the printer, Darcy was taping them to the wall in the order that Jane instructed, trying to create some kind of pattern. She could see the similarities between the three incidents, even if she didn’t have Jane’s level of expertise to figure out what the hell it all meant. Although she knew that Jane’s mind wasn’t really on what might be happening on the ground in Wakanda, but out somewhere in the stars, probably already trying to work out where these ships had come from.

There was one thing that Darcy could recognize without her boss’s help at this point, though, and it came up maybe half an hour later. “It’s him,” she announced, banging her hand on the table without really meaning to. The signature was unmistakable. “It’s an Einstein-Rosen bridge, right in the middle of everything.”

“What?” Jane was looking over her shoulder almost before she was done saying the word. “But that’s… I’ve never seen one so powerful. I don’t know if that’s him.” Him. Thor. God of Thunder. Jane’s ex, who had left a giant Asgardian-shaped hole in her life the past few years. They had seen flashes just a few weeks before – in New York, and just a couple hundred miles away within Norway – that bore all the marks of the Einstein-Rosen bridge that he called the Bifrost, his way of teleporting between Asgard and Earth. But Jane was right: this time it was stronger. What that meant was anyone’s guess.

“Hopefully he’s there to kick some ass,” Darcy said, but the screen revealed nothing.

They saw most of the energy signatures receding not too long after that – but whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, they had no way of knowing. The news, Twitter, Reddit, some of the darker corners of the web that sometimes had dirt on things: they were all coming up empty. Wakanda was one of the most secretive countries on the planet; that was one of the few things Darcy _did_ know about the place, so maybe it wasn’t a surprise that hours went by without anything except the impersonal, cryptic space data to go on.

The data kept them working through the night. All-nighters were easy in summer above the Arctic Circle, though, and it wasn’t until about four-thirty the next morning that they both started to flag from hunger and lack of sleep. With a great deal of cajoling, Darcy eventually managed to force Jane away from the computers and calculations and back to their flat for some rest. When she opened her eyes again, it was mid-afternoon, and she eventually realized it was Jane’s ringtone that had woken her. “Jaaaaaaane, get your phone,” she yelled, knocking on the wall between their rooms, as the phone stopped and then immediately started ringing again.

On the other side of the thin wall, she heard Jane’s voice: fuzzy at first but then immediately sharpening in the way that meant it was something important. Something important usually meant heading back to the lab. Darcy slung herself out of bed, and decided brushing her teeth and re-upping her deodorant were probably about as good as it was going to get. By the time she’d done those things, she found Jane still on the phone, but pacing around their tiny front room as she talked.

“Well, yes, that’s theoretically… yes. Yes. It’d take time, and equipment I don’t have… Oh.” When she saw Darcy, she frantically waved her over, though Darcy wasn’t sure how her presence was supposed to help the situation.

“Are you sure there isn’t someone else… Oh my god. Seriously, a teenager?” Jane paced back and forth again, frown lines deepening. “And the incident in Wakanda…? Right, you can’t say, whatever.” There was a long pause, where Darcy could just barely hear that it was a woman’s voice on the other end, before Jane took a deep breath. “Alright. But I need to bring my assistant. You probably have her on file already as well. Yes, Darcy Lewis.”

“Where are we going?” Darcy mouthed at her, only to have Jane wave her off. Wherever it was, she hoped they were providing transport, because she did not like the idea of having to run any of Jane’s homemade equipment through any kind of conventional airport security, or get it onto any other kind of vehicle for that matter.

Jane turned her back. “Tonight? Oh. Oh wow. Okay then. Um, see you soon, I guess. Yes. Okay.” She set the phone down, took a deep slow breath, and muttered a curse before turning around to look Darcy in the eye. “Pack your things. They’re sending a jet for us.”

“What? Who is?” Darcy knew that SHIELD had long since gone by the wayside, back around the time that all those top-secret documents got leaked online and some ridiculous sky aircraft carrier things crashed into the Potomac. There was only one other person they knew who moved in those kinds of circles, but it did seem like he was on the planet, at least. “Is this something to do with Thor?”

“No. Yes. Sort of, not really.” Mouth twisting – the way it tended to do when the subject of her space prince ex-boyfriend came up – Jane stared at the clutter on the table as if it would help her out with what to say. “That was Pepper Potts. Tony Stark is lost somewhere in space, with some magician and a teenage kid. And apparently we’re the best hope of finding him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what was happening on the ground in Wakanda while Darcy and Jane were monitoring those readouts, you ask?

Bucky picked himself up out of the dirt, ears ringing and head not quite steady, in time to see Thanos pull the Mind Stone out of Vision’s forehead and place it into the gauntlet. And then a second later, he had to close his eyes against a blast of light as Thor descended out of the skies.

When he opened them again, Thanos’s massive purple skull was lying on the ground, several feet away from the rest of him. The next second, Thor brought his huge battleaxe down, cleaving the gauntlet away from the remains of the corpse. “Guard this, and help the others,” Thor said, nodding to Bucky, and to Steve as he clambered to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked.

“To finish this.” In a blaze of light, Thor was gone.

They held their position in the woods, with Bucky picking off the dwindling number of space beasts from sniper distance until the sounds of battle died down in the distance and they could see the last couple of ships retreating. Gradually, their allies converged on their position, some coming from the battlefield, others recovering from having been knocked out, locked down, or otherwise decked by the big purple bastard. The guy in the big armor – Banner – had been half-sealed into a rock face, and wasn’t able to get free till the woman in red, tears running down her face, had done some kind of magic to release him. Wanda, Bucky reminded himself. He’d met her before, at the airport in Germany, but everything had been a whirlwind of battle prep from the moment Steve and his friends had landed. Thor, T’Challa and Okoye were the last to return. “What do we do with this?” Okoye asked, eyeing what was left of Thanos.

“We bring the gauntlet back to the palace,” T’Challa said, his voice as steady as ever. “Burn the rest.”

The next several hours were a blur of aiding the Wakandan wounded and seeing to the dead – both numbers thankfully far lower than they could have been, but still sobering – and shifting the corpses of the invaders into pits for burning. Most of the physical damage had been confined to the battlefields, but there were teams at work securing the palace and the few other buildings in the city that had been impacted. It was late into the night by the time they all gathered back in the lab to decide what to do next, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to be getting any sleep even if they tried.

The gauntlet lay on a table off to one side, one of Shuri’s forcefields protecting it – or protecting them from it, more likely. Another forcefield was temporarily taking the place of some windows that had been shattered out in the fighting, but the rest of the space was as clean and orderly as ever. It had been changed around some since the last time Bucky had been inside, and he found himself glad of it; he’d be forever in Shuri’s debt for the way she’d pulled Hydra’s programming out of his head, but it didn’t mean he looked back fondly on the process.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. “How are you, Buck?” Steve asked quietly.

Bucky knew Steve didn’t mean the immediate aftermath of the battle. And he knew that Steve had been kept at least somewhat informed over the past couple of years, just like he’d known that Steve and some of his friends were on the run, considered fugitives by the US government after the events in Germany. Outlawed for rescuing _him._ But they hadn’t talked, really talked, since the last time they’d been in this room together, when Bucky had put himself on ice till Shuri could figure out what to do with him. “I’m okay. ‘Bout as much as I’m ever going to be, anyhow,” he replied. “Go on,” he added. “They’re all waiting for Captain America to say something.”

Steve shook his head. “Not my place.” They both grew quiet, as the rest of the room gradually turned the attention in T’Challa’s direction.

“We have been fortunate. If you had not acted in time,” T’Challa began, with a nod to Thor, “the consequences could have been far worse.”

Thor shook his head. “If I had only been a few moments earlier.” He could have saved Vision. Everyone knew the end of that thought.

“We may yet be able to bring him back,” Shuri replied. “If we can re-link the stone to his neural algorithms.”

“We’d need Tony for that.” All eyes turned to Bruce, leaning up against a console in the corner like he’d prefer to disappear into the wall.

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Hmph. I could take a look at his data, but the two of you made things harder than it needed to…” But she trailed off, when her brother held up a hand.

“A worthy thought,” T’Challa said, with a nod to Shuri and Bruce. “And one that relates to the larger problem at hand. These stones are dangerous enough on their own. Even before he collected them all, Thanos was the greatest threat we have ever faced. The stones cannot remain together, even here in Wakanda. The Mind Stone may be able to restore Vision to us. But what of the others?”

“What do we know about these other stones?” Steve asked, finally putting on his Captain America voice.

“The blue one was the Tesseract,” Thor replied. “We tried a gambit with it, but Thanos was too powerful, even though he only had one stone – the Power Stone, the purple one - in the gauntlet when he attacked us as we fled Asgard. He must have decimated Xandar to get it. The red one was the Aether. It was sent from Asgard for safekeeping with the Collector, on Knowhere. Presumably Thanos got it from him, willingly or otherwise. The others, I don’t know.”

Bruce stepped forward, though he looked hesitant. “That green one. It’s the Time Stone. It came from Doctor Strange.”

“The wizard?” Thor asked, though everyone else in the room looked as unfamiliar with the name as Bucky was. “From New York?”

“Yeah. Bleecker Street. I – the Hulk – crashed through his roof when I landed back on Earth, and one of his friends explained the stones to me and Tony. And then that’s when a couple of Thanos’s lieutenants came down on top of New York. Last I know, Tony and Strange and this kid in a spider suit…”

“The kid from Queens,” Steve prompted. “Parker.”

Bruce nodded. “So you know him. Thanos’s guys got Strange, and Tony and the kid went up in space along with them. And I couldn’t… the Hulk, he was just nowhere. I couldn’t help them. That’s when I called you, Steve. But Strange – if Thanos got the stone, I’m thinking things didn’t go well up there.”

“You said that they had an explanation of the stones,” T’Challa said. “What of the orange stone?”

“The… Soul Stone, I think.” Bruce rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know anything else about that one.”

“No one does,” Thor replied. “It was thought to be legend.”

Steve cleared his throat. “So we have a plan for one stone: try to restore Vision, if we can. We’ve got a lot of smart people who can work on this,” he added, softening his voice for a moment as he turned to look at Wanda. “The Mind Stone’s been safe with him since we dealt with Ultron, so if we bring him back, with him is as safe a place as any going forward. We don’t know where the Soul Stone came from, and it sounds like three other stones don’t have an obvious place to go back to, if Asgard and these other two places are gone. From what you’ve told me about Doctor Strange, it sounds like his… order, his organization, are gonna want the Time Stone back, and they’re probably the right ones to safeguard it, if he didn’t make it. But do we have any idea for sure of what happened to him, or Tony, or the kid?”

“I’d say that the answer to that is no,” Shuri replied, pulling up a transparent display in midair where everyone could see it: a news header that read TONY STARK MISSING, juxtaposed with a broadcast that, though silent, had a chyron noting that Stark had last been seen engaging with a ship disappearing from New York airspace and that contact had been lost as they exited the atmosphere.

“Thor. You can transport yourself using that axe,” Steve said. “Could you teleport to them, if we knew where they were?”

“Stormbreaker can summon the Bifrost, which can take me to any realm. So yes, I could get to them. If we knew where they were.”

All eyes turned to Shuri. “I can begin work on this, but if I am to restore Vision _and_ find three men somewhere in the cosmos when all I know now is that they are not on Earth, it will take time. It would go faster with help, but this level of astrophysics is beyond the grasp of most.”

Most eyes went to Banner next, but he shook his head. “I can help with Vision, but I’m pretty limited on space.”

Thor tapped the floor with the hilt of his battleaxe, and the room went silent. “Jane Foster,” he said. “You need Jane Foster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of big broad Plot Stuff in these first few chapters. When we eventually get Bucky and Darcy to the same place, our focus is going to narrow. Just FYI.


	3. Chapter 3

The Stark Industries jet was definitely the nicest thing that Darcy had ever ridden in. Having a crew load all Jane’s equipment on board for them had been a bonus, too. There’d barely been time to notice that sort of thing, though, before Pepper Potts introduced herself and invited them to sit down at a conference table – okay, a jet with a conference table had definitely not been something Darcy had ever expected to find herself on – and discuss exactly what the hell they were going to be doing.

“Doctor Foster, you’ll be working from the Stark compound, upstate. The labs there already had a fair bit of the equipment on the list you sent me, the rest should be there by end of day tomorrow, and there’s plenty of room there for your specialized apparatus. You’ll be working remotely with Princess Shuri in Wakanda; she’s already got some things in motion, but she really needs your expertise in tracking anomalies.”

Pepper stopped for a breath, and Jane was still scribbling down notes, so Darcy took the chance to ask a question of her own. “Will we be… staying somewhere nearby?” What she really wanted to know was whether they were getting paid – or rather, how they were going to be able to afford their expenses. Jane’s grant money had stretched a long way, but it was getting near the bottom, and although ‘upstate’ sounded cheaper than Manhattan, they didn’t exactly have Stark-level wallets.

“Yes. Sorry.” Pepper ran a hand over her hair, and Darcy noticed for the first time how shattered she looked, under the composed exterior. “Yes, there are residential facilities on the compound, and food, whatever you need. There aren’t many people there right now; it’s usually…” She took a breath. “I’m going to need you to sign some non-disclosure agreements.”

It wasn’t like Darcy had never been asked to sign an NDA before, but the context made it pretty clear that this wasn’t just about proprietary Stark tech. “Sure,” she replied, since it looked like Jane was still processing her notes. “Because this is Avengers stuff, right?”

Pepper stayed quiet, but passed some paperwork across the table. Once Darcy and Jane had both taken the time to look it over and sign, she sighed. “Yes, you could call it Avengers stuff,” she said, taking the documents and tucking them in a file. “At least, I hope so. They haven’t exactly been a unit for a while, as I’m sure you’ve heard, but we need them to be. The fact that Steve Rogers contacted me, to say that Thor recommended you to help find Tony… I hope it’s a good sign.”

“I’ll need to know every detail you’ve got,” Jane said, turning to a new page in her notes. “I assume data from his suit is captured, and that might give us a heading to start with, but I need every bit of context. Even stuff that might not seem important. Who else saw this happen, or communicated with him?”

“Besides me… Bruce Banner. And a gentleman named Wong, who’s an associate of Doctor Strange. I can put you in touch with both of them, though I’m hoping Bruce will join us at the compound once he’s done assisting Princess Shuri on another project.”

Jane nodded, then set her mouth in a line. “And god help me, I’m going to have to talk to Thor.”

Somewhere in the midst of Jane’s questions to Pepper, Darcy fell asleep. She’d lost track of the time before they’d even left Norway, but it was still a little disorienting to open her eyes again and find it still dark despite her body telling her she’d slept for some time. “We’ll be landing in about half an hour,” Pepper said, her voice hushed. “It’s a smaller airport about twenty minutes out from the compound.”

Jane was out like a light, and Darcy decided to let her sleep for a few minutes more; she had a feeling neither of them would be getting much rest for the foreseeable future. Which made her wonder. “Have you gotten any sleep since this all kicked off?” she asked.

Pepper shook her head. “A little. Not much. I keep expecting that Tony’s going to somehow drop down out of the sky like nothing happened, but I can’t just sit around and wait for that. Once the two of you are set up and connected with Shuri in Wakanda, I’m going to try to take a break. For what it’s worth.”

“Even if you can’t sleep, at least if you, like, get something to eat and then lie down for a bit,” Darcy suggested. “Between Jane and the princess and whatever super-people are left, I’m sure they’ll figure out something.”

“Don’t count yourself out of that list, Darcy. Trust me, I know how exhausting the care and feeding of a genius is. And I’ve read your file – Puente Antiguo and London, but also the fact that you’ve been Doctor Foster’s closest colleague through several years of really groundbreaking research, especially since Doctor Selvig retired. Don’t let anybody treat you like baggage.”

Darcy realized her mouth was hanging slightly open, and closed it. “Thank you.”

By the time the driver – who Pepper had introduced as ‘Happy’ - was pulling up at the Stark compound, it was a quarter to three in the morning Eastern time. Darcy had long since given up trying to figure out what time her body thought it was. Jane had already made it quite clear that she planned on going straight to the labs to see the workspace and start running data right away, but Pepper checked in with them one more time before they got out of the car. “Please, don’t feel that you need to work straight through without breaks. Are you sure there’s nothing else you need?”

Shaking her head, Jane hopped out of the car and hustled over to the cube van ahead of them in the driveway, already firing questions and instructions at the guys unloading the equipment. “She’s in her element, trust me,” Darcy said, as she and Pepper exited the car more slowly. “My only question: is there coffee somewhere around the lab? And possibly snacks, preferably of the tooth-rottingly sweet variety?”

“Yes, definitely. Why don’t I show you the facilities? It looks like Doctor Foster would prefer to accompany them with the apparatus.”

Entering the building – which seemed huge and echoing, especially with only minimal lights on and no real sound apart from their footsteps – Darcy took a moment to really take in just how terrifyingly capable Pepper Potts had to be. Her partner was _literally lost in space_ , she probably knew all the ins and outs of whatever the hell had gone down in New York and Wakanda, she still had Stark Industries to run, and yet she cared enough to show Darcy where the coffeemaker and the vending machine were. And every time she had spoken to or about Jane, she’d used her proper title, and wasn’t _that_ refreshing?

The building really was enormous, and the lab that was earmarked for Jane’s use was probably bigger than the entire complex that they’d only had a small corner of in Norway. And Darcy supposed that she should have known better, in a place bankrolled by Tony Stark, than to expect a crappy drip coffee machine and coin-op snack dispensers. Just off the hallway of lab facilities was a lounge with a fancy coffee setup, a stocked fridge, and couple of large baskets of chips and chocolate bars and cookies on the counter. “Happy will be up shortly, probably along with Doctor Foster and the lab equipment, and he’ll provide you with ID badges and get you set up with Starkphones, so that it’ll be easier for you to interface with all the tech here. We’ve put you in residential building B – whenever you’re ready to head back there, you’ll find a map of the facilities on your new phone, but you can also just continue down this hallway and follow the signs. It’s a separate building, but the connecting tunnel is probably easiest until you have your bearings.”

“Wow, thanks.”

The ding of the elevator could be heard, followed by Jane’s voice. “I’ll leave you to it,” Pepper said. “I’m going to try and catch a little rest.”

After Pepper left, Darcy stood a moment, listening to the noise of Jane’s equipment being wheeled into the lab, and decided that Science could last five more minutes without her while she made coffee. In fact, Science would probably break down in short order if there _wasn’t_ coffee. She figured out the fancy machine and started it brewing the largest pot possible, then pulled a Snickers out of the basket of snacks and sank down into a huge leather armchair.

It was monumental problem they’d signed on to try and help solve, Darcy mused, but at least the surroundings were a hell of an upgrade.


	4. Chapter 4

Shuri and Bruce had managed to carve the gauntlet up into pieces, and separate the Mind Stone so that they could work on bringing Vision back. The palace had been repaired, Wakanda’s security grid fully re-established, and the wounded seen to, all in twenty-four hours. Bucky had slept for maybe three of those, crashed on a bench. Since waking up, he’d showered, changed into clean clothes – not his own clothes, but he was accustomed enough to Wakandan dress at this point to not mind a borrowed robe – and spent an hour trying to figure out if there was anything else useful he could do. Steve and the rest were still hovering around in their battle gear – some of them had slept, though he suspected Steve hadn’t – watching readouts on midair screens like there would be an answer there about what to do next.

Bucky was walking by one of the banks of screens when he saw his own face and did a double-take. Somehow it was a shot from the battle, himself in hand-to-hand combat with one of those damn beasts, whatever they were. “How they hell did they get that?” he muttered.

Although he’d been talking to himself, a tall chair swiveled around to reveal Nakia. “The quick answer is that the defense grid captures recordings. From there, it is a simple enough matter to capture scenes of you and your friends. The _real_ answer,” she continued, standing up to face him and raising one eyebrow, “is that Wakanda will be making a rare revelation of what has gone on within our borders. More specifically, the way in which the Avengers came to the world’s assistance here, and how foolish the rest of the world has been to consider you fugitives.”

“Steve and Sam, yeah. And Wanda and Natalia – Natasha. And I guess Banner and Rhodes too, if they’re suddenly up for court-martial about any of this.” He shook his head. “But refusing to sign some accords is pretty tame, compared to my rap sheet.”

Nakia gave a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “Yes, T’Challa mentioned that you might say that. I realize I do not know you well, Sergeant Barnes, but I _do_ know that none of the crimes on your ‘rap sheet’ belong to you. They are Hydra’s. And Zemo’s. And between the files that are already public, and the proof that Shuri can provide as to the completion of your deprogramming, there is no reason you should not be excluded from being pardoned by your government. Particularly once the court of public opinion swings your way. As it is already doing; I am simply helping it along.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘as it’s already doing’?”

From a couple of steps behind him, Steve’s voice sounded. “Show him what you showed me.”

Without bothering to sit back down, Nakia made a gesture at the screens and the images shifted to reveal a cascade of what looked like news from the last day or so: the images they’d seen already, about Stark missing, more shots of the ship over New York, some wreckage in Scotland, what looked like radar readouts with a headline suggesting that Wakanda had also been hit. Following those came social media posts asking where the rest of the Avengers had been, headlines critical of the Sokovia Accords for limiting the ability to respond to the attacks, others more specifically singling out the Secretary of State for blame.

“Ross,” Steve said quietly, as the display showed what looked like a feed of the Secretary being approached by reporters. “He pushed so hard for those accords, and everything that followed. If he’s out of favour, if there’s enough pressure to scale back the accords… we might be able to finally go home and do our jobs.”

“It’s been a day,” Bucky replied. “You really think things are gonna change that fast?”

Nakia raised an eyebrow. “T’Challa will be giving a remote address to the UN soon, along with our footage. I would start packing your bags if I were you, Sergeant.”

It wasn’t like he had much to pack, but despite Nakia’s words, and Steve’s apparent confidence, Bucky didn’t see himself being welcomed back into the States – or anywhere else besides a goat-farmer’s hut in Wakanda – any time soon. “Look, you guys’ll be lucky enough to have this blow over, you don’t need me along for the ride and having them shoot your jet down before you even land,” he muttered a few hours later, as they sat around a table digesting Steve’s plan.

“I need to go now,” Thor said, tapping one finger on the table. “There’s no further assistance I can give here, but between myself, the rabbit and the tree, we may be of some use in finding Tony and the wizard.”

“I am Groot,” the tree replied. That was the only thing Bucky had ever heard it say, but Thor seemed to understand it like a regular language, and nodded as if the tree had made a helpful point. Further down the table, Rocket – who definitely was either a raccoon or some kind of alien that was a dead ringer for a raccoon, leading Bucky to wonder what the hell kind of rabbits they had on Asgard – was sharpening his claws with a knife and just rolled his eyes.

“We’ve only got one plane,” Rhodes pointed out. “We go together.”

There was some argument back and forth over that, till T’Challa leaned forward. “We have other planes here. If Thor needs to return now, he should take your jet. And it may be wiser, for those of you who have not been able to return home before now, if you arrive in a Wakandan plane, under our visible protection. Nakia tells me that the positive reactions began before I had even completed my address to the United Nations, but still – timing will be important.”

“And it may be better if the ones who are not on Interpol’s wanted list go ahead, to smooth the way,” Okoye added.

“Very well, it’s settled,” Thor said, standing up as if he was going to walk down to the quinjet right that second. “Tree. Rabbit. Anyone else?”

Another voice came from the doorway. “Me.” Bruce Banner stepped in, rubbing a hand over his face. “There’s nothing else Shuri needs me in person for – we’ve got the Mind Stone starting to interface with what I could give her of the programming we used to create Vision. If I can get back stateside and access Tony’s files… God, I mean, hopefully we get Tony back and he can get the files himself, you know, but either way… At this point I can be more help from that end. I can get Tony’s files to Shuri and consult from there, and maybe I can do something to help find Tony and Doctor Strange and the kid while I’m at it. And Shuri’ll be glad to have me out from underfoot.”

Bucky saw the moment where Okoye let just the ghost of a laugh slip at Bruce’s last comment, but it wasn’t like Banner was wrong.

“Alright.” Steve waited a moment, till T’Challa nodded for him to continue. “So Thor, Rocket, Groot, and Bruce.”

Rhodes raised his hand. “You’ll need a pilot.”

“I beg your extreme pardon?” Rocket asked, walking across the table as if he was planning to get in Rhodes’ face.

“You’ll want one who’s flown a quinjet, anyhow,” Rhodes replied. “Don’t get your fur in a knot.”

Steve sighed. “Thor, Rocket, Groot, Bruce and Rhodey, then. And then me, Sam, Nat, and Bucky – Wanda and Vision hopefully, if Shuri can put him back together – we come over with a Wakandan escort as soon as we can.”

Bucky opened his mouth to object, to say that he had no business being on that plane with them, but it seemed like Steve had anticipated it. “Buck, we’re not going without you. We’ve had people working your case, you know,” he added, switching from the Captain America tone to his normal voice. “Lawyers, in the background, working on how to eventually put your case for immunity. Hydra’s secrets are out there, have been since Washington, Nat made sure of that. The fact that you weren’t acting of your own free will, that’s public knowledge now.”

“Could’ve fooled me, the way those SWAT teams came at us in Bucharest,” Bucky muttered.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him, and though his memories of the Red Room were still some of the hazier ones, he knew that expression, remembered it now. “Barnes, if you want to wait till every single person on Earth believes the truth, you are going to be waiting a hell of a long time. They spun opinion one way after Vienna, but it’s also public record now that Zemo framed you for that. And as T’Challa and Nakia have demonstrated, opinion’s spinning about as far in our favour right now as it’s liable to get. We all go in together, or not at all.”

Looking around the room, he could see the same sentiment reflected in Steve’s eyes, and Sam’s. Even Thor and Bruce and Rhodes were nodding at him. “Well, fuck.” He slumped in a chair, trying to fight off the little tendril of hope that said that maybe they could be right. “Looks like I’m outnumbered.”


	5. Chapter 5

Jane had, unsurprisingly, worked through the night. By nine-thirty in the morning, Darcy had given up trying to remember how long it had been since her last real night of sleep, and was just debating when to strongarm Jane away from The Science when Pepper reappeared. She looked like she’d had at least a little sleep, and was carrying a file folder.

“Is there anything else here that you need?” Pepper asked.

Jane had a couple of questions, but Darcy could only marvel at Pepper’s composure, to not immediately open by asking if they’d found any leads on Tony. Not that they could get very far in a few hours without all the information they needed, but still.

“I won’t keep you,” Pepper added, after she’d pulled out a tablet and noted the couple of additional items Jane required. “But I wanted to let you know that Bruce Banner and Thor are on their way here. You’ll probably want to debrief them both, and then Dr. Banner will be able to assist you from there. We have the labs across the hall for him. I know that this is probably… awkward for you,” she continued, giving Jane a sympathetic look. “I appreciate you taking this on. Also, I have to apologize: I completely forgot to get you both to sign off on the HR paperwork last night.”

She passed them each some forms. Given the lack of sleep, Darcy had to triple-check that she was reading things correctly and not mixing up her social security number with her bank account. After Pepper left with the completed forms, Darcy turned to Jane. “Okay, first: can we work here forever? I might finally be able to pay off my student loans.”

Jane gave a laugh that turned into a yawn. “Hell, I might be able to finally be able to pay off mine. I can’t imagine they need us around long term, though.”

“Second,” Darcy continued, “and more important – are you okay about seeing Thor, after all this time? I can, like, interview him for you or whatever, if that makes things easier.”

“I…” Pressing her first two fingers into the middle of her forehead, Jane closed her eyes for a moment. “No, I need to talk to him. But… if you could be my backup?”

“Dude, obviously. But we should really get some sleep while we’re waiting for them to show. You’re going to want to get straight back to it as soon as we get the intel.” Also, Darcy mused, no matter how Jane felt about seeing Thor, she’d probably rather look at least slightly less ragged when she came face-to-face with him for the first time in four years. “C’mon. Sleep and shower. Assuming we don’t get lost in this place.”

They found their way easily enough to Building B, where two doors on the ground floor had been marked with their names – and when Darcy opened the door and saw what looked like a king-sized bed instead of the lumpy, crooked single she’d had in Norway, it was all she could do to kick off her shoes and find her bag to quickly brush her teeth before she crashed, sprawling all her limbs out like a starfish. She was dead to the world five minutes later.

An unfamiliar noise woke her, and she realized it was an alert from her new phone. Unlocking it with her fingerprint, she found a text from Pepper, letting them know that Thor and Dr. Banner were about an hour away. It was nearly four in the afternoon, and Darcy wondered for a moment if she was ever going to get back to a regular sense of what time it was, before texting Jane to check that she was awake. _Need a shower, will meet you at the lab,_ was Jane’s reply.

For herself, Darcy opted to just change and freshen up and save the proper shower for when she had more time. Getting to the lab ahead of Jane, she checked the data they’d left running, made sure there was nothing alarming she needed to respond to right away, then headed back to the lounge to make some coffee. She was still there, munching on a nectarine and pouring herself a second cup, when she heard multiple sets of footsteps coming down the hall. She set her snack down just in time to turn and see Pepper, Thor, two unfamiliar men... and she could have sworn a raccoon and a tree were following them. Screwing her eyes closed, she pinched herself hard before opening them again to see that yes, she’d seen that correctly. “Thor!”

They had all been just about to head into the lab, but Thor turned at the sound of her voice. “Darcy?”

Her first impulse was to offer him a hug, but she hesitated, second-guessing how to react in front of this strange company. “Good to see you, dude. Still muscly, I see. Jane should be here in a minute.”

There was a hint of a twitch on his face, before Pepper introduced the two men as Dr. Banner and Colonel Rhodes, the raccoon as Rocket and the tree as Groot, all of this as smoothly as if they were all corporate executives. “Please, help yourself to coffee or anything else you’d like while you wait for Doctor Foster,” she continued. “Colonel Rhodes, if I could have a moment of your time?”

He nodded. “Good to meet you, Darcy. Thanks for coming in on such short notice to help us with this.”

“Hey, no problem.” Darcy was about to make her usual disclaimer that she wasn’t much help with the important stuff, but remembered Pepper’s advice and just gave an awkward smile as Colonel Rhodes nodded to her before accompanying Pepper down the hall.

“He’s one of Tony’s closest friends,” Thor said, after they disappeared into an elevator. “Do you think Jane will be able to find him?”

Darcy sighed. “Why don’t we sit down for a minute? Does anybody want… anything?” She remembered Thor liking coffee in New Mexico, but had no idea what a raccoon or a tree might want. “There’s fruit… water, um, whatever.”

“Got any junk food?” Rocket asked.

She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that the raccoon spoke English, so she tried not to visibly react. “Oh, tons, dude. Help yourself.”

As Rocket rummaged through the baskets of snacks and Thor poured himself a coffee, Dr. Banner slumped into a chair. “Any progress on this end, with the whole ‘three needles in a haystack’ situation?”

“Not much yet. We just got here from Norway maybe… twelve hours ago? We both had to crash for a few hours, but Jane’s got some data running based on the trajectory of that ship leaving New York. Problem is, we can’t assume it just went in a straight line from there.”

“Could be anywhere, once it hit a jump gate,” Rocket said, with a mouthful of cookie. He sat down in the armchair across from Darcy’s and cracked open a root beer. “But I’ve got a hunch.”

“What is it, rabbit?” Thor asked.

Rocket rolled his eyes, but looked like he was resigned to Thor calling him a rabbit. Maybe it was a nickname. “Titan. Remember, Thor, when we went to the forge place…”

“Nidavellir,” Thor supplied.

“Right, whatever. And Quill and the others were going to Knowhere. But then the last communication we got from them sounded like they were gonna go to Titan. Why? What’s there?”

“Thanos’s home planet,” Thor replied.

Darcy was beginning to wonder if they remembered that she was in the room. “Hang on. Who’s Thanos now?”

“The big bad,” Dr. Banner replied, his voice sounding even more tired than he looked. “Thor killed him. Long story.”

“ _Anyways_ ,” Rocket resumed. “What if Thanos and all his creepy-crawlies were gonna rendezvous there? ‘Cause Bruce, you said there was another one of those goons when you saw them before, who wasn’t in Wakanda, right?”

Dr. Banner nodded. “Yeah. Tony called him Squidward.”

“So you think Quill planned to follow Thanos to Titan, and that this Squidward was headed to the same place?” Thor asked. Darcy bit the inside of her lip and hoped they’d stop saying Squidward, or she wasn’t going to be able to keep any semblance of a professional demeanor. “Then we go to Titan.”

“Do you know where Titan is?” Dr. Banner asked.

“Well, no. But perhaps if the rabbit can tell Jane what he knows about Titan, she can locate it. If I know where the realm is, Stormbreaker can take me there.”

Just then, Darcy saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Jane staring at them. “Good news, Janey! We have a plan. And coffee. But mostly, a plan.”

There was a heavy silence as Thor came out from behind the counter. “Jane. I…”

Jane straightened her shoulders. “You and I need to talk, but let’s figure out where the hell Tony Stark is first. Tell me what this plan is.”

There was a flurry of activity for the next couple of hours. Jane had a million questions for everyone – even for Groot, though Rocket and Thor had to translate for him and it sounded like he had a hell of an attitude problem. Dr. Banner – or Bruce, since he’d insisted they call him by his first name – had gone over everything that had happened in New York, connected Jane to Princess Shuri in Wakanda, and then ducked into the next lab over, saying that he had a project with Shuri that he had to get back to. Rocket was the one with the most information about Titan, and while he and Jane went over maps of the Andromeda galaxy, Darcy tapped one of Thor’s massive forearms and suggested they adjourn back to the lounge for a break. “C’mon, help me make some sandwiches or call room service or something before everybody falls over.”

Really, she wanted to take him out of the lab for a few minutes because the awkwardness was becoming unbearable, and she had a feeling that Jane would probably be able to focus better without him staring at her like a sad puppy from across the room. “She meant it when she said you guys will talk later,” she told him, once they were out of the room. “But seriously – how are you, big guy? I like the haircut, by the way.”

Thor gave a half-laugh. “It wasn’t exactly by choice, but thank you.”

“How’s Asgard?”

“Asgard is destroyed. And some of the survivors were killed by Thanos. I hope the rest of them have made it to Earth.”

“What? Oh my god, Thor, I’m so sorry. Oh my god. I had no idea. Was it… Thanos?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long story. The short version is that I had an older sister I never knew about, who happened to be the Goddess of Death, and when my father died, she was able to return. And, you know, destroy Mjolnir, wreak havoc and so forth. We were bringing the survivors here when Thanos caught up with us in space, killed my brother, took the Tesseract, left me for dead in space. I was picked up by a ship, met Rocket and Groot and their crew, went to Nidavellir to get my new axe, used it to summon the Bifrost to Earth, killed a lot of beasts, and chopped Thanos’s head off. So, as you can imagine, it’s good to see some friendly faces. Though I’m not sure Jane is entirely friendly towards me these days.”

Darcy tried to pick through that information overload, and settled on the last bit. “I wouldn’t say she’s entirely unfriendly, either, but… I don’t know. So, are you staying?” Looking in the lounge fridge, she found a tray of wrapped deli sandwiches; it seemed that someone had already anticipated their needs. She pulled them out and set them on the counter.

“Well.” Thor pulled back the wrapping, extracted a sandwich, and examined it before taking a bite. “First I’ll go and bring back Stark, if Rocket’s guess is correct. Then… it would appear Earth is now my home, so I might as well protect it. I don’t know that I would stay _here_ ,” he added, looking around the room. “My first responsibility is to whoever remains of my own people. And I don’t know if Jane would want me here.”

“It’s not like we live here either,” she pointed out. “We’re just kind of passing through.”

Thor shook his head. “Nonsense. When you and Jane help rescue Stark, he’ll probably want you in his employ for the rest of your lives. And there seems to be plenty of room here, even when the rest of them return.”

“The rest?”

“You know,” he replied, waving his free hand as he finished the rest of the sandwich off in one large bite and continued talking with his mouth full. “The others. Rogers, Romanoff… what’s the fellow with the wings? Wilson. Wanda Maximoff may stay in Wakanda a while, till they can bring Vision back. I’m forgetting someone.” He made a face for a moment. “What’s his name… metal arm… oh, Barnes. They’re coming in a few days, with the Wakandans – some sort of drama with the government here, they said. Shall we take the food back in for the others, so they don’t need to stop their work?”

Without waiting for a reply, he picked up the tray in one hand and a full case of water in the other, as if it weighed nothing, and headed back towards the labs, as Darcy stood there processing all those names he’d casually listed off. Rogers: Steve Rogers, Captain America, gone rogue two years earlier if you believed the news. Romanoff, the Black Widow, who’d dumped Hydra’s secrets on the web and basically flipped the US government the bird at a hearing on Capitol Hill. Wilson didn’t ring a bell, but if he had wings, he must be the Falcon. Wanda Maximoff had supposedly blown up a bunch of civilians in Lagos, by accident, right before the whole Sokovia Accords thing.

And Barnes, who Thor had added on so casually. James Buchanan Barnes in Darcy’s history books. More recently the Winter Soldier. Who apparently had _not_ killed the King of Wakanda, but according to the news since that Hydra info-dump, it seemed like he’d killed just about anybody else important who’d died in the last sixty-odd years, from JFK right on down. Right up near the top of most terrorist watchlists. The Fist of Hydra. Coming to the compound with the Avengers in a few days. Right. Being in the same building as a fugitive assassin who, depending on whose speculation you read, might still have Hydra’s brainwashing alive and well in his head.

“This gig better pay off _all_ my student loans,” she muttered to herself, before she stepped back into the lab.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky leaned the back of his head against the seat, feeling the jet’s vibration thrum through him. How the hell had he let Steve talk him into this?

“You alright, pal?” Steve asked, pitching his voice to be just audible over the engine.

“You still sure we’re not all getting clapped in leg irons the second we step off this bird?”

Steve laughed. “The news has been screaming about how they should take us off the wanted list. Wakanda’s pushing the UN on the Accords. And besides, nobody outside of the compound’s even going to know we’re coming home.”

Home. For a second he was locked down in a box, hearing the echo of Zemo’s voice. _Why don’t we discuss your home? Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no. I mean your real home._ It took all the tricks he’d learned, everything he’d practiced over the past few years, to be able to bring himself back to the present, grounding himself in the details around him. “I haven’t had a home in about seventy-five years.”

“Well, you’ve got one now.” Steve laid a hand on his shoulder briefly. “We lay low for a bit, till things get sorted. And I’m with you, whatever happens.”

Despite all his doubts about everything else, Bucky knew that Steve meant it. “To the end of the line, right?”

“Buckle up, boys,” Natasha said, from closer to the front. “Coming in on the compound now.”

They let T’Challa and Okoye exit the jet first, and although Bucky would have been tempted to hang back and bring up the rear, the others formed up around him, putting him in the middle of the group. Despite what Steve had said about it being a homecoming, Bucky knew the formation wasn’t an accident. He focused on that, on the tactical sensibility of it, and on the smell of the tarmac baking under the summer heat, rather than think too hard about any of the things he’d done the last several times he’d been flown into the United States. Or woken up out of cryo to hear American English. The memories had abated a little during his time in Wakanda, but fighting them here was going to take work.

Banner and Rhodes met them just outside the main building. “Welcome back,” Rhodes said.

“Any news on Tony?” Sam asked.

“I think they’re getting real close,” Bruce replied. “They’ve been working round the clock. Between this and the progress Shuri’s making on Vision, I’m starting to think we might actually, possibly, have more than a snowball’s chance to get everybody back.”

“We’ll stop at the lab for a status update,” Steve replied, before turning to T’Challa. “Thank you for the lift, and for all your help. I know you need to head back.”

“We will see you again, when Vision and Wanda are ready to return to you,” T’Challa said. “But you have Wakanda’s support, any time you need it.” Taking a step closer to Bucky, he spoke more quietly. “Good luck, White Wolf. I hope you find peace here.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about peace, but he’d settle for doing some good, if they’d let him. He supposed the fact that nobody was waiting with cuffs and a prison transport was as good a sign as any for the moment. What he really wanted to do was to conduct a proper recon of the compound and learn what its security systems were – it looked too open, too peaceful, more like a college campus than a base – but he followed the others, heading inside with Bruce after the Wakandan plane departed.

“They’re using Lab Three, upstairs,” Bruce explained, after using a scan of his palm to open the nearest doors to the main building. “Pepper’s reset everybody’s clearance everywhere. Except Bucky – we’ve added you to FRIDAY’s approved list, but you’ll need to get your bio scans in there as well, it’ll make things easier.”

Pepper – Steve had said she was Stark’s girl. This was Stark’s place, for all Steve and the rest of them were walking around like they were right at home. “You think Stark wants me on the premises?” he asked Steve in an undertone, as they climbed the stairs behind the others.

“Let’s get Tony home first, then we’ll deal with him,” Steve muttered back.

“Pepper’s given you clearance,” Sam added, dropping back a step to fall in with them. “From what I hear, _she’ll_ deal with Tony when he gets back.”

They walked the rest of the way to Lab Three in silence, but there was plenty of noise from the lab, audible even before Bruce scanned open the door. Bucky hung back, just inside the doorway, taking in the banks of computer equipment and some other apparatus that he couldn’t pin a use on. At the centre of the room was a large table with a computer display built into the surface; Rocket the raccoon was standing on the table just in front of a small woman, both of them facing Thor across the table and looking a bit like they were lecturing him, though they frequently cut each other off. The tree was slouching in a chair off to one side – and what did it say about Bucky’s life these days that this was an unremarkable sight?

The only one in the room who seemed to notice their arrival was a second woman, who whipped her head round as they walked in the door, eyed them all up one by one, then silently padded over and gave the first woman a couple of gentle smacks on the arm to get her attention. “Um, Jane. We have company.”

So the woman at the table was obviously Jane Foster, the scientist Thor had recommended. Steve had filled Bucky in on the background, that Dr. Foster and Thor had been an item at one point, but apart from that he only knew what was in her file, which had made for a quick read on their flight from Wakanda. No military training, no unusual abilities apart from her genius intellect and a brief period a few years before when she’d been possessed by the Reality Stone. Which meant that the other girl must be her assistant, who had an even slimmer file. Darcy Lewis: political science degree from Culver, Foster’s assistant for seven years, involved in incidents in Puente Antiguo and London.

Bucky catalogued all this automatically, his brain running over the info at the same time that he calculated the number of exits, all the possible points where a hostile could make an incursion into the room, and how many weapons everyone had on their person – ranging from a probable zero for Foster and Lewis to the two guns and four knives he was discreetly carrying. It was all processed in the same time it took for Foster to react to Lewis hitting her in the arm.

“Doctor Foster, I presume,” Steve said. “I’m Steve Rogers. How are we doing on our missing persons case here?”

“We have a potential location in the Andromeda Galaxy, a planet called Titan. There’s reason to believe that the ship from New York may have been heading there to meet up with Thanos, and I’ve managed to triangulate some data that’s potentially consistent with the theory. The _challenge_ is trying to make sure that _the person who can generate an Einstein-Rosen bridge_ is actually _paying attention_ to all the relevant details and not just blasting off to a quadrant of space that we’re not actually sure his axe can take him to.” Her tone was clipped, and she only gave Steve the briefest glance before turning back to Thor as if she was trying to burn a hole in his forehead with her eyes.

“Basically, the big meathead wants to drive off without asking directions,” Rocket added, “and the prickly scientist has given up asking nicely for him to take a map.”

Bucky watched as Steve squared up into his Captain America posture; all that was missing was the suit and the shield. “Thor, we’ve gotta do this right.”

As several voices sounded at once, Bucky slipped back out the door to the relative quiet of the hallway, where he nearly collided with a thin blonde woman who looked like she was in a hurry. “Oh. Sergeant Barnes,” she said, taking a step back as her eyes ran down his left arm. “I’m just going in to hear Doctor Foster’s update, but let’s get you fully registered in FRIDAY’s database before I forget.”

Obviously, this must be Pepper Potts. “The system’s secure?”

She blinked at him. “Tony designed it. I promise it doesn’t connect with the CIA or Interpol or Facebook or anywhere else. Just this facility.” When he nodded, she used her palmprint to activate a screen in the wall beside the lab door, gave a couple of verbal commands, then asked him to step forward so the computer could scan his palm, fingerprint, retina, and voice. “This will give you access everywhere; FRIDAY, the AI, is accessible by voice command anywhere indoors. If you’ll excuse me,” she concluded, nodding to the lab doors before she headed inside.

Well, she hadn’t run screaming or told him to get the hell out of Tony’s building. He supposed it was a start.

The lab door cracked open again, letting a louder blast of voices escape for a moment as Sam slipped out. “Had enough, huh?” He shook his head. “Go chill out or recon or whatever you need to do right now, man. I don’t know how much longer they’re gonna argue in there, but even if Thor heads out soon, it’s not like you’re going to miss it. We’ve seen how the guy makes an entrance.”

Bucky nodded, and was going to head down the hall when Sam spoke again. “And Barnes? I know being back here probably doesn’t feel easy right now. If you ever need anything – I used to work with the vets at the VA. You ever want to vent, or whatever, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks.” With a nod, Bucky took his leave. He wasn’t sure if he’d take Wilson up on it, but if nothing else it was good to hear that somebody knew it wasn’t as simple as just coming home, the way Steve seemed to think.

It didn’t take too long to get the basic layout of the main building, large though it was. Labs and offices and conference rooms and a lounge on the second floor where he was starting from. Upstairs, he found another, larger lounge with a big TV and a pool table and a kitchen; leading off from that was a hallway of what he assumed were private quarters, given the names on the doors. Stark clearly had about half the third floor and probably all of the fourth floor, given that Bucky couldn’t see another stairwell or elevator heading up. Nameplates on other doors marked the rooms for Rhodes and Vision – and Hogan, who seemed to be Stark’s right-hand man. A couple other doors were unmarked, and he wondered if one of them had had Steve’s name removed after the fiasco a couple of years before.

On the ground floor, there was an infirmary and a gym, and the basement gave access to the garage and to tunnels connecting with other parts of the complex. Leaving the tunnels aside for the moment, Bucky headed outside to recon the grounds. It was a big property, but didn’t take long at his pace to jog round the perimeter; the security fencing met his approval, but he could see that the open riverbank might be a weak point unless Stark had some other measures that weren’t obvious. There were two other small residential buildings, each of which had a half-dozen private quarters along with a lounge and kitchen like the main building. Two doors in the second building were marked off for Foster and Lewis, but none of the others seemed to be designated. Another outbuilding was the gun range, and of course the hangar was obvious. A final building, low and boxy and not quite as sleek as the others, had to be the base for support staff, given that it was the only place showing signs of life outside the labs; presumably all Stark’s people must be vetted, but Bucky avoided the support building all the same, not knowing exactly how many people had been briefed to expect the Winter Soldier to turn up on the premises.

Turning back towards where he’d started, he saw movement; Thor was striding out to the lawn, battleaxe in hand, flanked by Rocket and Groot and with everyone else trailing in their wake. Bucky had gone maybe forty paces before a blast came down, something like a tunnel of lightning, taking Thor, Rocket and Groot along with it and leaving a circle of scorched grass and a smell of ozone behind.

Steve met him halfway across the lawn, both of them steering well clear of the marks on the ground. “There you are.”

“What, did you think I stole a jet and went back to Wakanda?” Bucky asked – deliberately flippant, before Steve could get that _look_ that meant he was worried.

Instead, Steve rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t put it past you. Jerk. Getting the lay of the land, I assume?”

Bucky nodded. “Didn’t see your name on any of those doors.”

“What? Oh, yeah. I had a room in the main building at one point, but Tony’s changed it all since I was last here anyhow. I figured we’d take Building A, since nobody’s using it. You and me and Nat and Sam – and that way we give Tony a little breathing room if he needs it.”

And out of the way of Foster and Lewis as well, Bucky mused, looking across to where the two women stood a little separated from the rest of the group. Dr. Foster was eyeing the marking on the ground and pulled out a phone to snap a picture, but Lewis was sneaking looks at all the people around her – trying to be smooth about it but not quite managing it – until Sam went over and shook her hand. Her face lit up and she started talking, not quite loud enough for him to hear, but it was animated for sure. “They’re in B. Lewis and Foster,” Bucky replied eventually.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Figured we’d leave them to it, at least until whatever point somebody else needs the other rooms over there.”

“You think they’re sticking around?”

He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked the question, and he could tell from the look on Steve’s face that he was wondering the same thing – but before either of them could say anything else, the sky lit up again, forcing everyone to shade their eyes against the intensity of the column of light blasting to the ground. Thor was back, and he wasn’t alone.


	7. Chapter 7

“Didn’t he used to have to yell to some dude in Asgard to do that?” Darcy asked, squinting her eyes against the glare of the second Einstein-Rosen bridge in less than fifteen minutes. “I gotta say, your ex has levelled up.” To be honest, her first thought at Thor returning so quickly was that something was wrong, that they’d miscalculated somehow – but then the light receded and she realized who was standing with Thor on the scorched pattern in the grass.

Supported by Thor’s right arm, there was a thin, dark-haired man in a cape. On Thor’s left side were two others, not so tall: one of them must be the teenager, and the other was Tony Stark. The kid looked okay, though pale and wide-eyed, but the other two were clearly unwell. Darcy nearly yelled for someone to call 911, before Dr. Banner more helpfully bellowed out “Medic!”

Darcy hadn’t really given a lot of thought to who else must be on staff at a place like this, but somebody had clearly been on standby, because a handful of people came running. Two of them guided the cape guy – Dr. Strange, Darcy belatedly remembered – down to sit on the ground and started asking him questions, but Stark waved off the ones who tried to crowd round him as he took a few unsteady steps to wrap his arms around Pepper. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said, his voice a lot less assured than the version of him that Darcy had seen on TV.

“Tony, you’re not,” Pepper replied, her voice firm despite the fact that she was openly crying.

“I’ll check in with the doc, I swear,” he told her. “Just… give me a sec.” Putting his grimy hands on either side of her face, he kissed her, murmured something quiet, then turned as Steve Rogers approached. Captain America and Iron Man. Because _this_ was Darcy’s reality right now, apparently.

“Tony,” Steve said, sounding like those couple of syllables meant a lot. “It’s good to see you.”

Stark grimaced, looking like he needed to put a lot of his weight on Pepper but was trying not to show it. “You too, Cap. Look, this mess. We should have been together. Stopped him sooner. I’m… I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Me too, Tony. But we’re all together now,” Steve replied. “We need you back in fighting shape, though. Let these poor medics do their job, huh?”

The two men shook hands, and Darcy felt like she was watching something important, something she should be applauding for. After that, Tony let the medics escort him inside, with Pepper and Colonel Rhodes flanking him. Behind them, the first two medics followed with Dr. Strange. That left the kid, who looked like he was only just taking in where he was and what was going on. “Hey, we’re home, right? Oh my god, what day is it? I’ve gotta get home, my aunt is going to be losing her mind. How long were we gone?” Craning his neck, he looked around at the scattered handful of people still out on the lawn. “Oh wow, it’s everybody. You’re not still fighting each other, are you?”

“Not at the moment,” Steve told him. “C’mon, Queens, let’s go give your aunt a call, let the medics give you a quick once-over, and you can give us a rundown of what happened out there while we get you a lift back to the city. We’re a couple hours’ drive upstate, nothing too far,” he added, when the kid looked like he was about to ask another question.

“Mr. Stark said that if we made it home, he’d call Aunt May and come up with some explanation that wasn’t outer space,” the kid said, as Steve and Sam led him towards the building, the same way the medics had gone.

With the new arrivals out of the way, Jane looked like she was itching to go back to studying the markings left by the Einstein-Rosen bridge, but she turned to Thor first, looking like she was having an internal battle on what to say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jane. And thank you for insisting I read the map,” Thor replied. He had just a tiny hint of a smile and looked for all the world like he was trying to make himself just a little smaller; it took a second, but Darcy clued in that he was probably trying to get himself removed from Jane’s shit list.

“I told you,” Jane huffed, but Darcy could see just a little ghost of a smile on her face as well, once she’d turned her back on her ex.

As for Darcy, she found herself edging a little closer to her favourite large beefy Asgardian, once she realized who else was left hanging around outside. Bruce Banner – okay, he had been _super_ nice so far, but she wasn’t sure just how easily that whole Hulk-smash thing could be set off. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was easily recognizable even with bleached-blonde hair, and Darcy had absolutely zero doubts about the fact that Romanoff could probably kill someone with her pinky finger if she felt like it. And scariest of all, the actual, for-real, goddamn Winter Soldier in the flesh. When everyone else had appeared in the lab, he’d only stepped in for a few seconds, looked at the place like he was doing some kind of Beautiful Mind instant analysis of it, then he’d ditched everybody and fucked off somewhere until they’d all come out to see Thor off. Despite the end-of-July heat he was in what Darcy assumed was battle gear – some kind of dark blue leather jacket thing that let his metal arm show, tactical pants and ass-kicking boots – and he was lurking several yards away from everyone else, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings like he expected somebody to blow the place up any second.

On the plus side, that was all he was doing. And he wasn’t holding a machine gun or a rocket launcher or a great big fuckoff knife like the photos she’d seen from Washington when he was in full Hydra mode. And given that as far as she knew, he was still an internationally-wanted fugitive, she figured he could be excused for looking a little twitchy.

“We should… we should probably head on inside,” Bruce said eventually, after an awkward silence had fallen for a few minutes. “See how everybody’s doing.”

The Black Widow actually laughed a little, which made her look just _slightly_ less terrifying. “See if Tony and Steve are still maintaining a truce, you mean? Good idea.”

“C’mon, Jane,” Darcy prompted. “Let’s go hear how your science worked out.” That was enough to pry Jane away from the marks on the ground, and they followed Bruce and Thor inside. On the way in the doors, Darcy was pretty sure she could feel eyes on her back; she didn’t know if it was the Black Widow or the Winter Soldier or both behind her, but she figured she shouldn’t be surprised that either of the world’s most infamous assassins would know how to walk quietly. And wasn’t _that_ a comforting thought, she mused.

They found the kid first – Peter, that was his name, Darcy belatedly remembered. He had a phone to his ear and it wasn’t hard to overhear a fairly frantic female voice on the other end. “No, I swear I’m okay,” he was saying. “No, I just – I promise, I’m fine. I’ll be home in a couple hours. Yes, I know you were worried.”

Steve was waiting outside the infirmary. “So really,” he began as they all walked up. “How did you do it?”

“Yes. How _did_ you do this?” Swaying just slightly, Tony emerged from inside, followed by a harassed-looking medic. “Oh alright, give me the IV or whatever, but we’re gonna multitask here.” He sat down heavily in the nearest chair and sighed as he held out an arm to be hooked up to the IV fluid caddy. “I mean… the wizard was too messed-up to portal us out, the space weirdos were still busy fixing their ship, and then this guy shows up out of nowhere,” he continued, gesturing at Thor, “and beams us up like we’re going to the Enterprise. _Nice_ trick, by the way. Very useful. Wait. New girls. Who the hell are you?”

Thor cleared his throat. “This is Doctor Jane Foster. And Darcy Lewis. Jane’s the one who found you.”

Darcy’s first thought was that Thor was _most definitely_ trying to get back on Jane’s good side; he’d remembered to use her proper title and everything. It took her a second to realize that everyone was now staring at the two of them. Mostly at Jane, fortunately. “With a _ton_ of help, obviously,” Jane said. “I couldn’t have done any of this without Darcy, or without the information from Rocket… Wait, where is Rocket?”

“Oh, he and the tree met with the rest of their crew on Titan,” Thor said, his voice breezy as if this was a perfectly expected turn of events. “The rabbit will be able to fix their ship, and they’ll join us here after their journey.”

Rhodes leaned in by Tony’s ear. “Talking raccoon and a tree who plays video games.”

“Yeah, we met,” Tony replied. “It was hasty. No real time for pleasantries. But hang on. So you,” he resumed, pointing a slightly shaky finger at Jane. “You. Are the reason I’m back here and not maybe dying of thirst and boredom waiting for Quill to try and fix his ship?”

“Well, yes. But like I said, it was with Darcy’s and Rocket’s help. And Princess Shuri in Wakanda.”

Stark held up a hand. “I’m gonna stop you right there, before you talk yourself out of taking credit for your own work. And I’m gonna get you to explain it all to me in some more detail, after I’ve had a cheeseburger and a Scotch and about twenty-five hours sleep, but you two are hired.”

“What?”

“Hired. On the payroll. We need eyes on what’s going on with this whole outer space situation before the next nutjob from another planet shows up. And maybe your raccoon consultant and the princess of Wakanda aren’t regularly available, but clearly you’re the brains, and she’s the brains behind the brains,” he added, turning his gaze to Darcy for a second before shooting a crooked smile at Pepper. “And I know you’ve already non-disclosured yourselves out the wazoo, so you might as well stick around. Jesus, I’m tired.”

Pepper fixed him with a look. “You should be in bed, Tony.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then shook his head. “No, I want to hear about what I’ve missed. I wanna hear about how you got rid of that purple asshole. And what your plan is for how we get half the team off of Interpol’s shit list. And how we know that the Manchurian Candidate here isn’t going to go all Hydra rage mode on us if the wrong words come out in the Sunday crossword or something.”

Steve stepped forward, frowning. “Tony…”

“It’s a fair question.” The reply came from the back of the room, and Darcy’s head whipped around to confirm that it really was Barnes who’d spoken. His voice was soft in a way that didn’t seem to match his reputation, and his gaze was on the floor.

“Alright.” Colonel Rhodes held up a hand. “Let’s go hit the conference room upstairs, where we can have a little more privacy and some comfortable chairs. Because I think we’ve got a lot to cover.”


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky leaned against the wall, listening to the spider-kid describing what had happened in space. “So then we almost got the glove off the big purple guy, but he snapped out of it,” Parker said, talking fast, his eyes wide as if he was reliving it. “And then it seemed like he was going to kill Mister Stark, and then Doctor Strange gave him the stone and he knocked Doctor Strange back into a bunch of wreckage and then he just disappeared. And then we were trying to do first aid for Mister Stark and Doctor Strange and some of the space people were trying to fix their ship and they were going to try to get us home, and we kind of lost track of how long it was because nobody knew how long a day was out there, and then, um, Mister…”

“Oh, this guy is Thor.” It was Lewis who spoke up, from the opposite corner where she was hovering behind Foster’s chair.

“Okay. Um. So, Mister Thor came and he had a raccoon and a tree with him, and I guess they were with the space people, and they talked about some other stone, I think? And then Mister Thor told us all to hang on to him, and he took this big axe and then we kind of blasted straight back here, it was kind of like a laser roller coaster thing, and then we were here. But I really, really need to get back to the city. My aunt is kind of losing it and I don’t think she’s going to believe I’m okay until I’m home.”

Pepper glanced up. “FRIDAY, can you please let Happy know to get the car and give Peter a ride back into the city?”

“No problem, Ms. Potts,” replied a disembodied voice from somewhere around the ceiling.

“So, tell me about Wakanda,” Stark said.

“Thanos must have headed there straight from…” Steve began, but Stark cut him off.

“I do, I want to hear about that,” he said, waving a hand dismissively for a second, before turning all his attention on Bucky. “But first, I want to know what _you_ were doing in Wakanda, Tin Man. Nice arm, by the way.”

Before Bucky could respond, Steve jumped in again. “T’Challa offered him protection there, after Siberia…”

“Shuri got the programming out of my head.” Bucky gave his voice more volume than usual, before Steve could get up too big a head of steam trying to defend him. “The trigger words. They’re gone.” To be honest, he was surprised it hadn’t come up sooner, but he’d come prepared. Reaching into his pocket, he unfolded the list, the one where he’d carefully written out the trigger words in English, Russian, German and French. The list he’d carried like a talisman since the day they’d tested them in Shuri’s lab and they’d done nothing. Stepping closer to the table, he passed the paper across to Stark. “Read ‘em if you like.”

Stark held his gaze across the table for a long moment, but didn’t take the paper. “Alright.”

Returning the paper to his pocket, Bucky took a deep breath. He’d hoped not to have quite such a large audience, but there was one more thing that had to be said. “I’m sorry. I wish I could take them all back, but especially… I knew Howard. I’m sorry.”

After a long, suffocating silence, Stark nodded, his eyes sliding down to the surface of the table. “Fuck. I know. I know you weren’t compos mentis. I think I knew that in Siberia. I just… It was a lot.” He shook his head. “So. Cap,” he resumed, in a completely different tone. “I still wanna hear about how you and Point Break managed to finish off the Purple People Eater.”

As Steve took over the narrative, Bucky took a long exhale and tuned the voices out. It seemed like Stark had extended a truce, which was about the best that Bucky could hope for, and with that out of the way he was starting to remember just how long and disorienting a day it had been. What he really wanted was to figure out where his quarters were going to be, take a shower, and lie down somewhere quiet to let his brain assimilate everything that had happened.

Most of the attention had slid back over to Steve, and at least that was a relief, but Bucky could still feel eyes on him; keeping his head tilted towards the conversation, he glanced in the other direction and met Lewis’s gaze. Caught, she immediately turned away, nodding as if she was following the details, though a pink flush spread across her cheeks.

He didn’t need to stare; he was practised in absorbing small details quickly, so he was able to assess her without raising any red flags. After all, the poor girl was probably rattled enough, not only having to be on the same premises as the Winter Soldier, but getting caught staring as well. Despite his assurances to Stark – and the confidence of Steve and the Wakandan inner circle – he knew that him being un-brainwashed didn’t mean people were going to forget he’d spent seventy years as an assassin. Lewis was young; he hadn’t absorbed her exact birthdate when he’d read her file, but she couldn’t be much over thirty. From her body language, he could gauge that she felt out of her depth in that room, and that she was probably about as tired as he was.

There wasn’t much else he needed to observe about her – an unarmed civilian who’d already made her limited contribution to the meeting earlier, adding in some details when Dr. Foster had explained how they’d found Stark – but he found himself glancing in that direction a few times more than strictly necessary. It took a while for a long-disused corner of his mind to register that it was because she was _pretty_. An irrelevant thought, but it gave him a few moments’ mental escape from the overcrowded room.

He found himself returning to the thought later, when he was finally alone in his quarters - on the ground floor, closest to the exits. Steve had to have known Bucky was choosing the place with the easiest escape route, but he hadn’t commented, only slung his own bag into the room across the hall and let Natasha and Sam choose from the rooms upstairs. Bucky had spent the first twenty minutes combing the place, before eventually conceding that it seemed safe enough to take a shower, change into a t-shirt and boxers, and lie down on the bed to mull everything over.

Stark hadn’t exactly welcomed him with open arms, but the fact that there’d been no violence and so far nobody had turned him in to the CIA meant the day had already gone better than Bucky had anticipated. He was going to have to find out more about who else worked at the compound and who was cleared to know he was on the premises, and they were all going to have to figure out what came next as far as getting their names cleared. And while it might be simpler for the likes of Steve or Natasha, he knew in his case there would inevitably have to be some kind of hearings or a trial, all the horrors of his past spilled out for the world to decide on. It was the sort of thing he could only contemplate in his mind’s peripheral vision, only envisioning it in glances before it became overwhelming.

So maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised that instead, his brain wanted to wander over to Darcy Lewis. Dark hair and plump pink lips and those bright eyes behind her glasses, those eyes he’d caught staring. Was it fear? Curiosity? God, he hoped it was just curiosity. He knew it was probably too much to hope for, but he didn’t want to scare the girl. If they were sticking around on Stark’s payroll – and assuming Bucky got to stick around and didn’t wind up having to flee back to Wakanda, or worse – he’d be curious to know more about what went on in the lab, more of the details on how they figured out things like the space rescue.

But as he allowed his conscious mind to indulge in an idle daydream about sitting in on their astrophysics discoveries, there was a baser part of his brain that kept reminding him of Darcy’s curves, speculating on how she might feel in his arms. “Fuck.” Shaking his head, he pushed himself up off the bed and stepped into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. “You’ve been here half a day,” he muttered, talking to himself in the mirror. “One civilian looks at you for a second and you’re getting stupid ideas. The fuck is wrong with you.”

“Buck?” Steve’s voice at his door, followed by a short knock.

Bucky stepped over to the door; it didn’t have a peephole, but he’d already figured out that the AI would display on a panel near the doorframe. He checked it, then let Steve in.

“Sam’s out in the kitchen, making some food. Wanted to tell you to come and grab some while it’s hot,” Steve said. Then he paused and looked Bucky up and down. “You doing okay, pal?”

_Great. Left alone for forty-five minutes and having wildly inappropriate ideas about a girl who looked at me for two seconds._ “Fine,” he grunted, reaching for his discarded pants. “Just fine.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Darcy, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Darcy replied, gesturing around at the ingredients and equipment on the counter, and trying to resist the urge to say anything about the state of Jane’s bedhead, which was _quite_ spectacular. “I’m baking.” After all the excitement from the previous day – actually succeeding at rescuing Stark, Strange and Parker from a whole other galaxy – preceded by several near-sleepless days of work, Jane and Darcy had both crashed hard. Darcy had returned to the land of the living a couple of hours ahead of her boss, though. “I mean, I just came out to see about coffee and something to eat, but _look_ at this kitchen. I don’t even care that it’s shared, even if more people move in here at some point. I have never had the run of a kitchen like this.”

In truth, she had already used the kitchen, a little: grabbed a couple of quick snacks in passing over the last few days, and put away the groceries after Pepper had shown her how to use the AI system to order necessities. But mostly they’d been relying on ready-made sandwiches in the lounge across from the lab. Now, with a day off at her disposal, she intended to unwind properly, and baking had always been a good way to do that.

“What are you making?” Jane asked, shuffling over and climbing onto a barstool.

Darcy poured her a coffee and slid it across the counter. “Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies are in the oven already. I’m doing brownies now.” She took a sip of her own coffee, before picking up a chef’s knife and going back to chopping up baker’s chocolate. “I might make one more thing after that, maybe lemon squares, or raspberry crumble bars. Or maybe both, I don’t know. I mean, there’s _two_ ovens.”

“Darce, what the hell are you going to do with all that stuff?”

Setting the knife down, Darcy emptied the chopped chocolate into a saucepan with some butter and turned it on low, then gestured around. “I mean… it’s not like there’s a shortage of people here, and half of them probably have Thor’s super-metabolism. I figured I’d make friends. And they’ve all been out fighting big bads; they deserve some cookies. You should eat something, though. I mean, some actual food, before you wind up having cookies for breakfast. There’s yogurt and fruit and stuff in the fridge. I stocked up pretty much everything.” Jane didn’t move, just cradled her coffee cup like a doting mother, so Darcy forged on. “And speaking of people with super-metabolisms, what are you going to do about Thor, seriously?” It had been clear the last couple of days that he wanted to at least mend fences.

Jane shrugged. “He’s going to Norway to check on his people. We’ll talk after that. We _will,_ ” she insisted, when Darcy shot her a look. “I mean, he’s got to sort out what’s happening with the survivors from Asgard. I don’t even want to open up any kind of discussion with him till he at least knows what the hell his life is going to be now.”

“But you _do_ want to open a discussion.”

“I… Maybe.” Jane sighed. “If I promise to have a healthy breakfast, will you leave that topic for now?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes, but when Jane really did retrieve a yogurt and a banana and a big glass of water and headed back towards her room, she let her go. It wasn’t that Darcy wanted to be a busybody, but she and Jane had been in each other’s pockets for so long now that it was hard not to be. Especially where Thor was concerned.

Alone again, she put on some music and lost herself in the peace of having a kitchen to herself. By the time she was done, the counter was laden with the cookies, brownies, and both the kinds of fruit squares. There really weren’t enough storage containers for them all, so it was just as well she’d planned to share; pulling out two massive platters, she filled them both with a selection of everything, covered them with clingfilm, and then went back to her room to find a pen and paper and write a couple of notes saying _help yourself, from Darcy._ After another moment’s thought she crammed in a postscript about the cookies being the only thing with nuts; she was pretty sure that none of these superheroes were likely to be felled by anaphylaxis, but one never knew.

The main building was halfway across the property and Residential Building A was only about fifty yards away, so she opted to deliver the closer one first. “Don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip,” she muttered to herself, thankful for the automatic door as she made her way outside with the heavy tray of treats. She had a near-miss at the entrance of the other building, where she had to balance the tray in one hand for a moment while she scanned her palm for entry, but in the end she got it to their table unscathed. It looked like the ground floors were identical in the two buildings; their kitchen seemed more or less untouched, leaving her to wonder whether it was because all the super-people were already up and gone for the day, or if they were sleeping in as well.

She pulled her neatly-folded note from her back pocket, set it on top of the tray – then nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to go. The room had been empty _one second earlier_ , but now she found herself staring at the Winter Soldier. He was staring back at her, standing almost freakishly still. “Jesus, dude, you’re like one of those weeping angels on Doctor Who. You scared the shit out of me,” she blurted out, before immediately deciding that it was probably the worst possible thing to say, and wishing she could take it back. She couldn’t quite decide if she wanted to take it back because he really _was_ a little intimidating, or if it was because she didn’t want to hurt the feelings of the soft-voiced guy who’d looked pretty lost the day before. The soft-voiced guy who was actually ridiculously goddamn gorgeous, now that she got a good look at him. “I’m sorry. I barged into your place, I shouldn’t be telling you off. I’ll get out of your way.”

“I set an AI alert, for when anybody different comes in here,” he replied, taking her by surprise. Again, his voice had a certain hushed quality to it that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Not used to being back.”

It would have sounded paranoid, but he _was_ an international fugitive, after all. She wondered if he’d heard his alarm and thought someone was coming to arrest him, or worse. With that thought in mind, the realization that all he’d done was startle her – no weapons, no threats, no explosives rigged to the doorway – she suddenly didn’t feel quite so scared about sharing the compound with him. “I bet. I mean, I’m still feeling pretty weird here, and I’ve had a few more days and I’m just a nobody coming from an observatory in Norway. Look, I won’t hang around and bug you – I just got excited about having such a nice kitchen, and baked some treats for everyone. I’m gonna take some over to the main building too. I’ll, um… see you around, I guess.”

“You’re not a nobody.”

Darcy was halfway to the door when he said it; taken by surprise again, she turned back around to find him with a strange expression on his face. She wondered if he’d meant to say it, or if he was lost for a follow-up, but eventually he spoke again, though his gaze didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I read your file. Puente Antiguo. London. Working all over the world with Doctor Foster. You’re not exactly the average civilian.”

_Well, if nothing else apparently I have clearance to know you’re here._ For once her inner filter actually kicked in before the words came out of her mouth, because she didn’t actually know who made those kinds of decisions or why they’d opted to let her and Jane in on the whereabouts of any of the new residents of the compound. And she liked having the Avengers as her neighbours, she decided. She didn’t really know what she should be saying back to his comment, though, so she settled for, “Enjoy the treats, dude.”

His voice sounded one more time, just as she was stepping out the door. “Bucky. My name’s Bucky.”

Darcy did know that – remembered it from her history books – but she sure as hell hadn’t been planning to address him that way uninvited. “Enjoy the treats, Bucky.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile cross his face.


	10. Chapter 10

_U.N. “Open” to Amending Sokovia Accords_

_Wakandan Officials Confirm Extra-Terrestrial Attack_

_Congress Debates Reinstatement of Avengers_

_Asgardians Land in Norway, Request Sanctuary_

_James Buchanan Barnes: Terrorist or POW?_

_Calls for Resignation of Secretary of State_

Bucky entered the conference room to see a series of headlines on one of the transparent midair displays. Cringing at a photo of himself in his Army uniform, he focused on the others. “So, how long do we wait before we let people know that we’re here?” He said it to himself, not expecting a reply, but he got one.

“That kinda hinges on you, Mr. Roboto.” Pausing in the doorway, Tony rubbed his chin as he surveyed the headlines, before taking a seat across from where Bucky was standing. “Well, and Wanda and Vision rejoining the party, but it sounds like your friends in Wakanda have just about finished raising him from the dead, so that should be soon. I really should talk to them, make sure they don’t, you know, accidentally make him evil. Ultron?” he added, when Bucky looked at him blankly. “Cap didn’t fill you in? Yeah, I kind of screwed that one up. Anyhow. Where was I? Oh yeah. Cap said it’s a package deal. We don’t tell the world the Avengers are back until we’ve got an airtight case for you to not get packed off to the Raft. Blueberry?” He held out a small container of berries, raised one eyebrow, then took it back. “Oh, look, the gang’s all here. Mostly. The wizard portaled himself back to Bleecker Street this morning. Thor gone to Norway?”

Sam nodded as he, Steve and Rhodes walked in, followed a moment later by Natasha and Bruce, collectively sparing Bucky any more time of being alone with Stark. True, Tony had been civil, sometimes almost cordial, in the three days they’d all been at the compound, but Bucky was still haunted by the spectre of Howard, faint echoes of the father showing up in the face and mannerisms of the son. Besides, following him in conversation was a bit like trying to keep track of half a dozen bouncing balls at once.

“So where are we at, folks?” Tony asked, spinning around in his chair.

Bruce glanced around the room before speaking. “Shuri’s aiming to reactivate Vision first thing tomorrow, so around midnight our time. If things go well… he and Wanda should be back soon.”

“That’s good news,” Steve replied, in full Captain America mode despite his khakis and workout shirt. “I think…”

“Hang on.” Bruce held his hand up for their attention. “There’s something else. So, you guys know that Doctor Foster was able to trace it, when I got beamed back to Earth, and when Thor came and went. Well, obviously she’s the expert on that stuff, but SHIELD had access to some of her work years back, so I guess the government still has _some_ tech that can catch it, at least on some really basic level. Whatever news we want to leak, we’d better do it soon, because they’ve got an idea that something’s up. They’ve gotta know that Thor’s back, especially with that,” he added, pointing at the headline about the Asgardians.

Steve frowned. “Alright. So then they probably know that Thor’s been here, which links him to Tony and Rhodey and Vision.”

Rhodes shook his head. “Nah. Ross knew that Vision was incommunicado, remember?”

“Right. And he knows that we were here before the battle. There’s not necessarily any reason for them to think that we’re here right now, but that doesn’t mean they won’t come looking if they want to badly enough. The support of the Wakandans, and their footage from the battle, will mean a lot, especially the way public opinion’s already swinging. We just have to make sure that they see enough grounds to give Bucky a pardon. Shuri’s records will help, but…”

“Siberia.” Bucky rubbed his temples, feeling a tension headache hovering at the mere idea. “I’ve got to go back to Siberia.”

“What?” Almost every voice in the room sounded simultaneously, but Natasha was the notable exception.

“You’re looking for records of what they did to you. If you could find them, even some of them, that would definitely do the trick,” she said.

“They documented everything. And mission records were still there two years ago – Zemo found them easily enough. Even if they don’t have the… the original stuff, there’s bound to be records of something.”

“There may be some of it in the Hydra material I dumped on the web,” she replied, leaning forward in her chair. “I didn’t exactly read it all, but we could have the AI scan through it.”

Bucky shook his head. “If there’s something… but they should have video, photos. I know even the file your low-level friend in the Ukraine had, the one you gave to Steve after Washington – even that had a photo of me in cryo. There should be… other stuff. Worse.”

Sam turned his chair to fully face Bucky. “You sure you’re okay with that kinda stuff getting out, if you can even find it?”

“Do I want the whole world to see how they experimented on me, turned me into…?” Exhaling heavily, Bucky dropped his gaze to the surface of the table. “Fuck, no. I don’t want to remember it myself, let alone parade it in front of the Pentagon or the press corps or whoever’s going to maybe consider showing me a little mercy. But if it’ll get them to stop hunting me for a damn minute… if it’ll make it so I can actually do something useful, maybe help somebody… Then I’ve got to do it.”

“Well, you’re not going alone, pal,” Steve said, looking like he disapproved but was unable to find any fault with Bucky’s logic.

“I’ll go,” Natasha said, then raised an eyebrow at Steve when he whipped his head around to look at her. “What? If you want to come along for moral support and to watch our six, great. But you’re not a spy, and unless I’m very much mistaken, you don’t speak Russian.”

It looked like Sam was about to speak up as well, but before it could get into too much of a squabble over who was or wasn’t going to Siberia, Bucky had another thought. “How do we know that they know about Thor?”

Bruce blinked at him. “Oh, uh, Darcy hacked into somewhere. I thought it was maybe best not to know too much about how.”

“What now?” Tony glanced at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, can you get Darcy…” He snapped his fingers a couple of times, waving his hand around.

“Lewis,” Sam supplied.

“Lewis. FRIDAY, where is Darcy Lewis right now?”

“In Lab Three, Boss.”

“Alright.” Tony drummed his hands on the table. “Can you get her to join us?”

The conference room wasn’t far from the labs, so it wasn’t long before the door cracked open and Darcy poked her head in. “Heyyyyy, everybody. What’s up?”

“Get in here, Trinity.” Tony waved to an empty chair. “What’s this about hacking into the Pentagon or something?”

“It wasn’t like it was the _Pentagon_ ,” she replied, shooting a quick look at Bruce as if she was pretending to be disappointed in him for revealing her secret. “But thanks for making me Trinity instead of, I don’t know, the nerdy kid from WarGames or something.”

Sam turned to face her. “Seriously, though.”

Darcy shrugged. “I’m not actually busting into state secrets, not real ones. But after the first time SHIELD took my iPod – and, y’know, all of Jane’s equipment and her lifetime of research – I decided it was in my best interest to watch the watchers, keep an eye on how much folks know about stuff. Like I said, I’m not dumb enough – or skilled enough - to try and actually crack the NSA database or something that’d get people’s attention, but it’s amazing how much peripheral info you can backdoor into. And how much people just leave hanging out in the wind in their emails and social media and stuff, to be honest.”

Stark sat back. “Alright, Short Stuff, I’m impressed. I admit it, I’m impressed. FRIDAY?”

The disembodied AI voice sounded again. “Yes, boss?”

“Whatever we’re paying Lewis, bump it up twenty percent and change her title to Lab Manager.” Looking back at Darcy, he took off his glasses and pointed at her with them. “You and me, we’re going to talk tech and security, a whole bunch. But right now, just tell me, how’d you get into some of these back doors?”

As Darcy launched into her explanation, there was a visible divide as half the room followed with interest and the other half were lost in the technicalities. Sam and Steve were obviously in the latter category, despite their effort to put up a show of polite attention, and Bucky was right there with them. When he lost the thread of the finer details, though, he watched the _way_ she spoke, the way her body language changed now that she was in a sphere where she had some authority. Fuck, she was bright. And sweet, with the way she’d brought them that massive tray of cookies and things a couple of days before. And pretty: those blue eyes and red lips and the way her skirt was hiked up just a tiny bit. Shifting his chair back a fraction, he took a surreptitious glance at her legs, unable to resist a smile when he saw that she was wearing a pair of bright red old-time basketball shoes instead of the heels he might have expected. 

He composed his face before she wrapped up and looked around the room, but he could have sworn she lingered on him a second longer than anyone else. Probably just his guilty conscience after ogling her, he decided – but there wasn’t a lot of time to think it over, given that Siberia was an immediate next on the agenda. Within the hour he was in battle gear and boarding a quinjet with Steve and Natasha.

Bucky had planned to start detailing the layout of the old Hydra base and their plan of attack as soon as they were in the air, but it seemed like Romanoff had other ideas. When they reached cruising altitude, she turned around in her seat and gave him a shrewd look. “How much do you remember about the Red Room?”

“Enough to know I’m overdue to apologize for shooting you in Iran,” he replied, but then sighed and started over. “I remember… us,” he conceded. “And what happened after.” Frowning, he tried to discern why she would be asking the question; fair enough that they put it out in the open at some point, he supposed, but… “It was…”

“We were both different people,” she replied, waving off his discomfort. “Literally. Water very much under the bridge, don’t worry. But… I’m guessing you haven’t had a lot of women in your life since then.”

Talk about an understatement. He remembered a time, while he’d been on loan to the Red Room to train recruits, when a sparring session with Natalia had led to several days of sex in closets and empty corridors, before they were found out by their handlers. He’d been shipped back to Hydra and subjected to new combinations of torture and drugs, to the point where it had only been in the last couple of years that he had started to get back even a theoretical, solo level of sexual function again. Privately, he was amazed that he was having this conversation at all, without getting triggered. She was still waiting for his answer, though. “No. Not remotely. And it’s not exactly like it was a romance that you and I had.”

Natasha snorted. “No. It certainly was not. Look, Barnes, all of that, it’s best left buried. And I’m not going to pry into your business. But just saying… if the last time you _really_ had a girl in your life was the nineteen-forties – be aware, things have changed. A lot.”

“Where exactly is any of this going?” Steve asked from the pilot seat – saving Bucky the trouble of asking the same thing.

She shook her head. “It was good to see the limits of your legendary poker face today, Barnes. I mean, Lewis _does_ have nice legs, but still.”

Steve turned his head and raised an eyebrow. “You sweet on Darcy?”

Bucky thumped the back of his head against the headrest of his seat. “Fuck’s sakes. I notice for half a second that she’s easy on the eyes and you’ve gotta blow it up into something it isn’t.”

Natasha shot Steve a look that was equal parts amusement, and something else Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on, before she turned back to him. “I notice you didn’t say no.”

He closed his eyes. “Fuck.” It was going to be a long flight.


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy was just debating whether to try and pry Jane away from the lab for some kind of sustenance when there was a knock; Sam popped his head in a second later. “Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m cooking some dinner upstairs. Ready in about half an hour if you want some.”

“Absolutely, thanks,” Darcy replied, giving Jane her best _yes, you are taking a break from Science for some food_ expression. “Why upstairs, and not at your place?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s just me over there tonight. Might as well be where the people are. Alright, ladies, I’d better run before anything burns – come on up whenever you want.”

Twenty minutes later, they were on their way up the stairs. “Nice of him to invite us,” Jane commented.

“He’s a nice dude,” Darcy agreed. “And I don’t smell smoke or hear alarms, so I’m guessing he can actually cook.”

“Unlike a certain someone who didn’t even know not to smash coffee cups on the ground.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, and paused on the landing. “Come on, now. Thor was willing to learn. I mean, I don’t know that I’d ever trust him in the kitchen further than toast, but then again I don’t trust you much further than that either. If you’re still pissed at him, you’re allowed, but don’t just go looking for every dumbass gripe you had, just to talk yourself out of maybe giving him another chance. Alternatively, if you really don’t want to get back with him, we seem to have several hot, probably single, new neighbours.”

“Who do you mean?”

“Who do I _not_ mean?” It was hard not to burst out laughing; Jane really could be oblivious sometimes. “I mean, okay, Tony’s definitely not single, and I don’t know which way anybody else swings, but there are no non-hot Avengers. Captain America, blond and built like a brick shithouse? Sam, gorgeous and funny? Colonel Rhodes, super handsome? Bruce… as long as he’s not Hulking out, he’s got that cute professor thing going on. Black Widow, who is scary as hell but definitely reminds me I’m bi. And Barnes… Jesus Christ backwards on a bicycle. If you’d told me four years ago that I’d be saying this about the Winter Soldier… but given the chance? I would bang him like a screen door in a hurricane.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but you gave some _thought_ to that last one.”

“Ugh, so I may have a tiny crush on someone unattainably out of my league. After how disappointing Ian was, I’ll happily stick to impossible dreams that I admire from afar, thank you.” After ascending a couple of steps, she stopped again, and pointed a finger in Jane’s face. “And _not a word_ to anyone about this. Especially Thor, if and when you decide to give him the time of day again.”

“It’s in the vault, I promise. Come on, let’s get dinner.”

It felt strange to actually be socializing with a bunch of Avengers, at least for the first half-hour or so, but between Sam’s excellent jambalaya and a glass of red wine, Darcy felt herself relaxing, picking a big armchair off to one side to watch how they interacted when it wasn’t all business. She wondered where the hell Barnes and Rogers and Romanoff were, though. Okay, she admitted to herself, she mostly wondered where Barnes was. Bucky. She knew the basics of his history – the public stuff, of which a fair bit had come out in the last couple of years – and had a feeling there would be more, if she wanted to take the time to decrypt and search through all the Hydra files that Black Widow had leaked a few years earlier. Trying to reconcile it with an actual real human was a bit of a mindfuck, though. The couple of times she’d seen him speak up with the other Avengers, he seemed to be stoic, focused, maybe weighed down by his past. And then that one brief conversation she’d actually had with him: she kept running it over in her head, dissecting it bit by bit as if it carried more weight than a few sentences exchanged.

Bucky’s voice was what had really gotten under her skin. She hadn’t been lying to Jane: she really did find every single one of their new neighbours excessively easy on the eyes, but the juxtaposition of his reputation and the intensity of his body language with that velvety, soft, almost shy voice… it was like catnip. The poor guy had said one kind thing to her and would no doubt be horrified if he knew that ever since, she’d been imagining that voice murmuring filthy things in her ear.

She was jolted out of her inappropriate thoughts when Sam perched on the arm of the chair next to hers. “So how are you finding this whole crazy circus?”

“You think this is crazy, you should meet some of Thor’s Asgardian friends,” she replied, then frowned. “Shit, I don’t even know if any of them are still alive. I didn’t get much chance to catch up with the guy, but I can’t believe his whole planet is gone.”

Sam grimaced. “I don’t know Thor that well, but from what I heard, it was only a few hundred of them who made it to Norway. I hope they can get settled in somewhere without too much trouble.” Shaking his head, he took a sip of his drink. “How did you guys get tangled up with Thor, anyhow?”

“The short version? He dropped out of the sky right where Jane was trying to do science. She hit him with the van and then I tased him. The rest is history.” She watched the wheels turn in Sam’s head, then asked a question of her own before he could come back with a response. “So where are all your roomies, anyhow? I mean, if I’m cleared to even ask.”

He shrugged. “I have a feeling some of us aren’t getting reinstated without some kind of rules and bosses coming into play, but in the meantime, I think Pepper inviting you here and Tony putting you on the team is as much clearance as anyone else has. They needed to go track down some intel to help make Barnes’s case that he didn’t do all that Hydra shit willingly.”

“Dude.” She blinked at him. “I mean, isn’t it _obvious_ that none of that was his choice? All I know is the public-knowledge stuff, but he fought for the good guys in the war, got captured, escaped however many years later and saved Captain America, totally got framed for what happened in Vienna, and is back on the good guy side again. And they even found all that torture-chamber shit in DC, after Hydra got taken down. I mean, is it going to be that hard a case to prove? It shouldn’t be.”

Sam smiled. “Still gonna be a tough sell, especially with the JFK thing. But I’m real glad to hear you say that. He’s… not used to having anybody in his corner.”

“I’m in everybody’s corner, as long as they’re not an asshole,” she replied. “And so far he seems pretty nice. Like… kinda shy, but nice.” _And so hot,_ she added in the privacy of her own head, hoping it didn’t show on her face. _So ridiculously goddamn hot, he sticks out even in a bunch of literal superheroes._

“He’s a good guy,” Sam agreed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong – from the limited time I’ve known him, he’s prickly as hell and a huge pain in my ass, but he’s a good guy. Not great at sharing, though. Judging by the amount of empty tray we found, I’m pretty sure he demolished about two-thirds of those cookies and things you made, before the rest of us even found out there _were_ cookies.”

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the thought that Bucky had liked the stuff she’d made. Hopefully her pink cheeks could be explained away by the wine, even though she was only on her first glass. “Well, I bake when I’ve got time on my hands, so depending on, you know, Science,” she said, vaguely waving a hand in Jane’s direction, “I can definitely make more stuff for you guys. Maybe next time I’ll just give everyone their own plate?”

Sam laughed. “I’ll put mine under lock and key. And I’ll wait to see the look on Barnes’s face, if you show up with his own personal dessert plate. He was surprised enough that you brought that stuff over – he might faint if somebody actually does something nice for him personally. Alright,” he added. “I think it’s my turn to kick Tony’s ass at pool.”

As Sam walked away, Darcy couldn’t help smiling to herself. Bucky Barnes was outrageously out of her league, but he was also a human with a sweet tooth who sounded like he needed a few more friends. She could at least supply the first, and hopefully the second as well, if she was lucky. _I’ll just have to shelve these stupid fantasies,_ she mused. _Or buy stock in batteries._


	12. Chapter 12

“Here’s another.” Pulling a dusty, faded box off the shelf, Bucky added it to the pile.

“Got some here, too,” Natasha replied from down the corridor, before reading a Russian file name aloud.

“Jesus, Buck.” There had been no signs of life in the base other than themselves, but Steve was still on point guard at the entrance to the long rows of cobwebbed shelving that passed as an archive. “I had no idea they’d have kept so much hard copy.”

Bucky shrugged. What the hell was he supposed to say? The growing pile of boxes, file folders, notebooks and tapes was seventy years out of his life. “Just as well they did.”

“And they clearly never counted on anybody finding this base, let alone getting this far in,” Natasha added, shaking her head and muttering something in Russian. “The fact that all this is still here suggests they were right.”

Reaching the end of the last row, Bucky nodded to her and they retraced their steps, each rechecking the shelves the other had examined to be sure neither had missed anything. Satisfied that they’d got it all, Bucky dumped out the contents of a couple of unrelated file boxes so they could more easily carry the loose things back up to the surface and onto the quinjet. It still took a couple of trips, even with the fact that he and Steve could carry several boxes at once.

“What about all the other stuff down there?” Steve asked, once it was all loaded up. “I don’t love the idea of just leaving a lot of Hydra’s plans and info down there for some of their stragglers – or anybody else – to find.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “This is why you bring me. I plan for contingencies.” Reaching into one of the smaller compartments on the jet, she pulled out a grenade.

“Incendiary?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Very. Do you want to do the honours?”

Smiling for the first time since they’d gotten on the jet that morning, Bucky held out his hand.

As much as seeing that base go up in flames gave him a moment of victory, the flight back still had his stomach gradually sinking down towards his boots at the nagging awareness that people were going to have to go through all this intel they were bringing back – starting with him. The written files were bad enough, but there were a lot of film reels, audio tapes and video cassettes in the haul as well. Some of it was bound to be irrelevant, granted, but not all. He knew they’d recorded his training bouts with the five newer Winter Soldiers, but he was pretty sure that was going to be the least of the evils. How much else had they captured?

“Message from Tony,” Natasha announced, as they were leaving Russian airspace. “Wants us to make a stop in Norway to pick up Thor.” She punched in a new set of coordinates.

If nothing else, the distraction was welcome. “He can’t just use the magic space axe?” Bucky asked.

“Nah. It only goes planet to planet,” Steve replied. “I asked in Wakanda. I’m surprised he’s coming back so soon.”

They landed in an isolated clearing, out of sight of the village they’d glimpsed on their approach, and found Thor waiting for them when the landing ramp extended. “Ah, friends, thank you.”

Steve extended a hand to him. “Good to see you. How are your people?”

Thor sighed, glancing in the direction of the village. “They are well, the ones who made it this far. Just under a thousand,” he added, before any of them could ask. “The people here have been kind enough to offer shelter in their village hall and their school and some of their homes for the moment, till we can rebuild.”

“Rebuild?” Natasha asked.

“I’ll show you from the plane,” Thor replied. “A landowner, hearing of our situation, has given over a large area where we can create a New Asgard. Not exactly on the scale of the original, but as my father taught me – Asgard isn’t a place, it’s a people.”

Steve nodded, and patted Thor on the back. “Looking forward to seeing it. Let’s go.”

Thor refused to buckle in for takeoff, bracing against the back of a seat to look out the window instead. “There. There it is.”

Natasha obligingly banked the jet so they could all see a pocket of green coastline that inclined down from cliffs to a natural harbour. “Looks like a beautiful place,” she said. “I’m surprised you’re coming back to the States so soon.”

As they turned back to their original course, Thor sat down in the seat besides Bucky’s. “I want to help rebuild the Avengers as well. It seems best that we present a united front to your government, or whoever else seeks to interfere.” He sighed. “And I would like to at least make amends to Jane.”

He went silent for the rest of the flight, seemingly stewing in his thoughts just as Bucky was stewing in his own. At least until they were descending towards the landing pad at the compound and Steve spoke up. “Whatever amends you wanted to make, looks like you can start now. We seem to have a welcoming committee.”

Thor sat up straighter all of a sudden, craning his neck to look. “Is Jane there?” He ran a hand over his hair – making no particular difference, given how short it was – and took a deep breath.

“Yep.” Steve took a quick half-glance over his shoulder, a far-too-smug grin on his face. “Jane and Darcy.”

_They’re just here for Thor_ , Bucky told himself, keeping his face as carefully blank as possible even as he felt a traitorous uptick in his pulse rate at the sound of her name.

Natasha piloted with the same precision she did everything else; they touched down so softly that it barely registered, and Thor was out of his seat that same split-second, pinky finger twitching in what seemed to be a slight nervous tic as the ramp lowered. Bucky let all three of them go ahead, figuring he’d let the girls leave with Thor, so as not to startle Darcy with his presence the way he’d done in the kitchen that day. The way he’d scared her was just one more checkmark in Bucky’s lengthy mental self-loathing list. Even worse, he’d stalled her when she’d obviously wanted to leave, just because he'd wanted to keep talking to her.

One minute, a minute and a half, two… Eventually, he judged that the coast was probably clear. Picking up a few of the larger boxes of evidence, he trudged down the ramp, only to stop dead at the bottom. Thor and Jane were gone. Steve and Natasha were standing maybe twenty yards away in the shade, and would have looked like they were deep in conversation if not for the sidelong glances they kept directing his way. Bastards, the both of them.

And waiting by the foot of the ramp was Darcy Lewis.

With his forward vision impeded by the stack of boxes, he'd nearly run into her before he realized she was there. His heart skipped a beat or two – then nearly stopped altogether as he clumsily set the boxes down and took a real look at her, in a sleeveless top and a pair of shorts so tiny they seemed almost indecent. “Jesus.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. But I guess we’re even?” she said, giving him a lopsided grin.

It took a second to get his brain to start firing on all cylinders again, and a lot of willpower to avoid staring at her legs. Or her cleavage. Why the hell was she here? “It’s okay. I… didn’t expect anybody to be here.”

“I… um. Well, Sam kind of mentioned the general idea of where you’d gone yesterday, or at least what you were looking for, and I thought maybe I could help. I mean, not with, like, covert ops or whatever kind of cool spy stuff you guys were doing.” Her gaze flickered over towards Natasha and Steve for a second before returning to him. God, her eyes were so blue. And she smelled good, something kind of sweet that he couldn’t put his finger on. He hadn’t been anywhere near this close to her before, and he was suddenly all too aware that he was well overdue for a shower and probably stank of explosives and sweat and god knew what else. “But, like, there’s still all those Hydra files that got leaked, right? So… I hope this isn’t super invasive of me, or overstepping or whatever, but while you were gone I managed to break the encryption on some of them, and did a search for stuff that might be helpful. ‘The Asset’, right? In the files. That’s referring to you, yeah?”

Swallowing hard, he managed to nod. “Yeah.” Hearing that term come out of her mouth felt a bit like running full-bore into a brick wall.

“Sorry,” she replied immediately. “I know I don’t know you, and I only know probably one percent off the surface of everything, but god. _Fuck_ those guys for what they did to you, seriously.” And then she touched his arm, just barely, like it was an impulse that she’d thought twice about halfway through, her little hand barely brushing his sleeve before retreating. Like a butterfly landing and taking off. Light enough that the touch might not have registered through the leather if he hadn’t been watching – but he had. He’d seen that little flutter of a touch and he wished like hell that it had been on his skin. It was a welcome thing to focus on, to keep his head level despite the subject matter. “And I know it’s gotta suck, the fact that all this information is going to be out there. But for what it’s worth, I hope this’ll help. I’ve still got the decrypt-and-search running on the rest of the files, but for now…” Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a USB drive and handed it to him – touching his skin this time, just a little, her fingertips against his palm for a quarter-second. “I’ll, um… let you know when the rest is done?”

Bucky found himself staring at the small device in his hand for a moment, before he closed his hand over it and moved it to his own pocket. “Thank you,” he finally managed, after too long a pause. “You… you didn’t have to do this, Darcy.” Calling her by her name – actually saying her first name aloud for what he was pretty sure was the first time – left him feeling oddly exposed, as if it was the key that would let her see through to all the crazy, inappropriate thoughts he’d been harbouring.

But her face lit up in a smile that felt warmer than the searing end-of-July sun. “I’m happy to help. Do you…” She paused and bit her lip. “I should probably… let you go. You must be roasting out here in all those layers, and I know they’re waiting for you,” she added, tilting her head slightly in Steve and Natasha’s direction. “I’ll see you later?”

He tried to smile, but wasn’t sure if it took. “Thanks,” he repeated, wishing he had something to actually say to her, something to make her stay. She turned and headed towards the building, and he couldn’t help how his eyes followed her – though he snapped them back upwards as she paused near the door and looked back at him.

“And Bucky?” she called. “Any time you want more treats, just say the word. I heard you liked the last ones.”

Before he could even process that, she ducked through the doors and disappeared. Once she was out of sight, the other two ambled back over. At least Romanoff had the grace to keep a neutral expression, but Steve looked fit to burst. “Need a hand with those boxes, Buck?”

“Not a word, Rogers. Not a damn word out of you.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mutual pining? Mutual pining.

Forcing herself not to look back again once she was inside, Darcy dashed up the stairs and ducked into the nearest washroom. Once the door was safely locked behind her, she leaned on the counter and took a deep breath. “Okay, that totally just happened,” she told her reflection, just barely aloud. “Fuck, I’m ridiculous.” It should have been a perfectly normal conversation – explaining how she was decrypting the Hydra files, and handing over the USB – so why did she feel like a thirteen-year-old kid who’d just babbled a lot of nonsense at a celebrity?

After a few deep breaths and a little cold water splashed on her face, she felt a bit more like herself, at least enough to emerge from her hiding place and head for the lab. As soon as she walked in the lab door, though, she realized her mistake: Jane and Thor were deep in the midst of some kind of quiet, tense-sounding conversation that certainly didn’t need her in the middle of it. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Give me two seconds and I’ll be out of your hair.” Not bothering to see if either of them responded, she tiptoed to the nearest computer and unlocked it, checking on the progress of the remaining Hydra files. Everything was still running properly, so she got the hell out of there.

The lounge across the hall seemed safe enough. She took a cold drink out of the fridge and wandered over to the windows, telling herself that she wanted to see if the forecast thunderstorms were visible in the distance yet, even though she only gave the horizon the most cursory of glances before looking down to the landing pad. So far the quinjet hadn’t been moved back to the hangar, and after a couple of seconds she saw Bucky emerge carrying a couple more boxes like the ones he’d been holding when they’d spoken a few minutes earlier. Giving up all pretense, she perched on the window ledge and watched him carry his cargo across the lawn, taking a shortcut to Building A. Captain America – she couldn’t quite make herself think of him as Steve just yet, since they hadn’t really met properly – followed with more boxes a few seconds later. When Sam had said they’d been looking for evidence of Bucky’s past, she’d been envisioning hard drives or microfilm or something, but this looked more like they’d been emptying out evil file cabinets in some Hydra office god-knew-where. She certainly hadn’t taken in any of the details of the boxes Bucky had set down outside, because standing that close to the guy had been more than a little overwhelming, between his extreme attractiveness and her frantic efforts to try and read him. She was reasonably certain that he hadn’t been actively pissed off that she was there, although from anyone else she might have taken his brief answers that way. Surprised, for sure. Pleased to see her? She wasn’t sure she’d go that far. He’d been watching her as she walked away; she wanted to imagine that he might have been checking out her ass, but suspected that it was probably just his hypervigilance, keeping an eye on the weirdo who’d snuck up on him at the landing pad.

Both men emerged from the building and headed back to the jet again, and she still couldn’t take her eyes off Bucky. His body language was a little looser with only Steve around, and it looked like they were talking about something light, Steve laughing and Bucky shaking his head. She was just toying with a little half-daydream about what might make Bucky laugh, what it would be like to meet him coming off a jet and have him smile at the sight of her, when suddenly Steve stopped in his tracks. He was just shy of the plane, and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and looked straight at her, perched there in the window like a goddamn stalker.

“Oh, fuck me,” she muttered, leaving her iced tea on the window ledge as she scurried out of view. From further back in the shadows, she saw him turn to Bucky and say something. But then they both turned away, looking towards the sky in the opposite direction before Bucky dashed into the main building and Steve got into the jet. What the hell was going on?

And then she saw an airborne _something_ approaching from way in the distance, and realized that Steve seemed to be taxiing the jet towards the hangar rather than taking off anywhere. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

She wondered if it was ever going to seem normal to be able to talk to the ceiling. “Please, call me Darcy. Um, are they expecting another plane from somewhere?”

There was a slight pause before the AI responded. “I have a Wakandan plane on the radar. King T’Challa has just informed Mr. Stark that he is on his way with Vision and Wanda Maximoff.”

“Cool,” Darcy replied. And then she thought about the way Bucky had fled. “Um, can you make sure that Sergeant Barnes knows that it’s them coming, and not the FBI or something?”

“Will do. Anything else, Darcy?”

“No thanks.”

Pulling out her phone, she sent Jane a text. _You seem pretty busy – let me know if you need me for anything but seems like Vision and Scarlet Witch are touching down in a few mins so I’m gonna just take a break for a couple hrs and let all the avenger types catch up._ Checking out the window once more to make sure the coast was clear, she hustled downstairs and speed-walked across the lawn to Building B before she could make a fool of herself any further.

By the time she got there, Jane had replied. _Just take the rest of today off. Lots to talk about with T but not ready to take it anywhere more comfortable yet._

Darcy smiled at the ‘yet’. It would be nice if Jane and Thor finally got their shit together, now that it seemed like they’d at least be living on the same planet. “Be nice to know somebody’s getting some, anyhow,” she mumbled to herself, unlocking the door to her room and kicking her sneakers off with a sigh. The carpet felt cool and soft under her bare toes, but the place didn’t feel like home. She couldn’t remember the last place that really had – maybe Puente Antiguo, in a weird way – but seeing as it looked like she had a steady job for the foreseeable future, maybe it was time to settle in. If nothing else, it was time to stop living out of a duffel bag. “FRIDAY?” she asked.

“Yes, Darcy?”

“Are there any rules about not hanging stuff on the walls here?”

While she was waiting for an answer, her phone rang, displaying Tony Stark’s name. “Hello?”

“Hey, Short Stack. Don’t knock down any walls or blow anything up, but otherwise make yourself at home. Paint, hang stuff, throw parties, whatever. Listen, we still have to talk about this whole security thing sometime.”

It only occurred to her in that moment that Jane was not technically her only boss anymore. “Shit. Yes. I mean, I didn’t forget…”

“Hey, don’t panic there, kiddo. Pepper’s insisting that I, I don’t know, recuperate or something for a few more days anyhow, and now we’ve got Wanda and Vision on their way in to get caught up with the whole shitshow here. We’ll talk next week or something. Meantime, I hear you’re helping out the Metal-Armed Wonder with decoding that Hydra shit. Very magnanimous of you.”

“Jesus, news travels fast around here.”

Tony laughed. “Nah, I was literally just saying earlier today that somebody should start digging through that, and Sam said he had a feeling you were on it already. Sooner we can get all these idiots cleared, the better.”

“Why?” she asked. “You expecting an invasion anytime soon?”

“I am _hoping_ to spend an indefinite amount of time out of the armor and working on saving the planet from things like climate change instead of psychos from outer space. And, y’know, making an honest woman out of Pepper and maybe building a cabin on a lake somewhere to roast marshmallows over a bonfire with some hypothetical kids. However, experience shows that something inevitably goes boom somewhere when we least expect it. Hey, do you have any more of those brownies kicking around? Alright, I gotta go,” he added, without waiting for an answer to the brownie question. “Do whatever you like with the place, like you would with any other apartment. Let me know what your schedule with Space Doc looks like next week and we’ll talk.”

He rang off without further comment, leaving Darcy feeling like she needed to sit down. She was accustomed to Jane’s particular flavour of ‘sudden whirlwind of ideas’, but Tony was a whole other variety. If nothing else, his angling for brownies offered something to do for the next few hours – not to mention a convenient cover for the fact that what she really wanted to do was take another plate of sweets to a certain ex-Hydra neighbour. After lugging some clothes down to the basement laundry room and starting a load of wash, she set herself up in the kitchen and started flicking through some recipes she’d saved to her phone. Brownies again, as per Tony’s request, but she didn’t want to make all the exact same things. Banana bread, since there were a few in the fruit basket that were edging towards too brown for anything else. As for the rest, she rummaged through the fridge and pantry in search of inspiration – alternating between wondering whether Bucky had any particular favourites, and mentally kicking herself for being so far gone with this stupid crush.

She just couldn’t get him out of her head, though. As she baked, she kept daydreaming as if he was there, carrying on fictional conversations in her head and trying out different imagined versions of what he might really be like under that shell of his. He might tease her, she decided, thinking about Sam’s comment that Bucky was a pain in his ass. Bucky Barnes might be exactly the sort to get underfoot and steal chocolate chips out of the bowl or want to eat the cookie batter despite there being raw eggs in it. What would it look like to see him in casual clothes, using those battle reflexes to dart round her and swipe the wooden spoon out of the bowl, maybe taking advantage of his height to hold it out of her reach and laugh as she jumped for it? Maybe he’d lean back against kitchen island and give her a shit-eating grin and lick the spoon regardless of her protests. Maybe she’d try to wrestle it out of his grip and there’d be a lot of body contact and they’d start making out. Maybe he’d sneak a hand down her shorts and…

“Oh god,” she groaned. The kitchen was starting to feel entirely too hot, for reasons that had nothing to do with the dual ovens being in use. It wasn’t the first time that she’d gotten herself into a state over fantasies of Bucky, but it was becoming a more and more frequent occurrence. She hoped to god that getting to know him better would calm the situation down – it often did for her, with random crushes – but she was _not_ going to get through the afternoon like this. According to the timers, she had twenty-one minutes before anything had to come out of the oven; she set the same timer on her phone and scurried back to her room, needing some relief before she spontaneously combusted.

Locking her door, she kicked off her shorts and underwear and dug in her bag for her vibrator, letting out a hiss of frustration when she realized it was out of batteries. “Damn you, James Buchanan Barnes,” she muttered, feeling that it was fair to blame him, given that he was the reason for its more frequent use lately. When she slid her fingers down to touch herself, she felt her cheeks flushing at just how wet she was, all from a little idle daydreaming. How bad would she be if he ever really touched her? If she ever got a hint of what he was packing in those tactical pants of his? Picking up from her fantasy in the kitchen, she pictured him kneeling on her bedroom carpet, his head between her thighs. She spread her legs wider, pretending it was his two big hands – one flesh, one metal – pushing them apart. Pretending it was his tongue sliding against her instead of her own fingers, his voice telling her she tasted better than anything in the kitchen. She got herself off in what was probably record time, and still had several minutes left on her oven timer by the time she cleaned up and pulled herself back together to resume baking. Damn Bucky Barnes and his out-of-reach sex appeal, though. She had a feeling she was in deep trouble.


	14. Chapter 14

With the return of Vision and Wanda, Stark had insisted they throw a party. Which meant that it was a perfect opportunity for Bucky to have Building A entirely to himself. He’d been invited to the party, of course – everyone had – but he wasn’t sure he was anywhere near being decent party company at the best of times, let alone when there was a few decades’ worth of his Hydra history sitting in boxes like a time bomb waiting to go off.

He was going to need to find a VCR, a reel-to-reel machine, and maybe a few other things before he could touch any of the audiovisual materials. Any excuse to delay going through _those_ was welcome, but in the meantime he’d dragged all the boxes out to the big dining table in the building’s common area so that he could at least start the unpleasant task of sorting through the files and notebooks and printouts. It was a strange evening, thunderstorms clearly on their way in, the air unnaturally still as the sun started to go down behind the black clouds piling up in the west. Fitting, somehow, given the task at hand.

The first few things he pulled out were mostly irrelevant – technical notes on the cryo chamber, memos back and forth within the Hydra chain of command that were couched in careful enough language that they could have meant anything, maps of outposts that were long since disused. With every folder or document that he cast aside, he felt a weird mix of relief and dread: what if none of it was specific enough to be useful for his case?

Just when he was starting to get a little numbed by the useless files, he pulled out a ledger with the year 1953 on the front. Somewhere between his fall from the train and the beginning – as far as he’d been able to piece together – of his Hydra kill list. Flipping to a random page, he found columns of dates and notes, laid out almost like a diary in tidy handwritten Russian.

_13 April 1953: Subject removed from cryostasis to attempt further conditioning. Strength and physical condition is exceptional and shows no decline since application of experimental serum [1943] and final serum [1945]. Body appears to no longer be attempting to reject left arm prosthesis and areas of previous infection in shoulder area have extensive but stable scarring. Subject still shows resistance to mental conditioning and reverts to quoting American name, rank and serial number, though this now seems a reflex that may yet be broken._

_27 April 1953: Results of testing subject’s healing capacity over past ten days:_

_Superficial cuts to epidermis: healing time 60 seconds to 10 minutes_

_Blunt force trauma to abdomen: 96 hours_

_Complex fracture, right humerus (concurrent with above): 108 hours_

The list went on, but Bucky had to close the book, pushing it away on the table’s surface as he drew in a ragged breath. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that he didn’t remember the incidents being described, but there were boxes and boxes of this still to go through and he was going to have to find something that would identify him more conclusively than ‘subject’ and ‘American’. Maybe he should take Romanoff up on her offer to go through the files with him – because as much as he hated the thought of anybody else seeing it, this was all going to get paraded in front of a lot of other eyes whenever word got out that he was here, and the sooner they had it ready to go the better.

He set the 1953 ledger aside, further down the table. It wasn’t completely useless, but it would be better to find something that identified him clearly. A few more useless things, a couple more ledgers that he piled on top of the 1953 volume without looking through them, and then laying flat at the bottom of the first box there was a file envelope, a Hydra sticker sealing its string closure. It would have been easy to tear off, but as it happened the envelope was so brittle that the bottom cracked open as Bucky pulled it out. Inside were photographs. Black and white, grainy, some of them small and some of them shit quality due to having been enlarged, but they were clear enough.

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, needing to close his eyes for a second.

“Bucky?”

Out of the chair, standing, facing the threat with a knife in hand in a split-second. But it wasn’t a threat. It was Darcy, with a tote bag over one arm and both hands raised in a pacifying gesture. “Whoa, whoa, it’s just me.”

“Fuck. Sorry.” He replaced the knife in its sheath and laid it on the table behind him.

“No, it’s okay, I kind of snuck up on you. Which I didn’t think was possible, so yay me?” She gave him a crooked smile and a half-laugh, though he could tell she was at least a little rattled.

Between the files he’d been going through, the adrenaline of Darcy having just about gotten the drop on him, and the very different set of nerves that seemed to trigger whenever he saw her, he felt the need to lean back on the table for a little support. “How come you’re not at the party?”

She shrugged. “It’s a welcome-home thing for a couple of people I’ve never met, with a lot of people I mostly don’t know. I mean, I have my great master plan of getting to know everyone, but… still working on Step One, the ‘butter people up with baked goods’ section.” Taking a couple of steps closer, she set her bag on the counter and pulled out four containers. Three she left in a neat stack, but she picked up the fourth – much bigger than the others – and held it out to him. “I had a feeling you’re probably not the type to actually ask for anything, but these are for you.”

She got almost all the way to the table before his brain fired enough to remember the photos spread out behind him; he took a hasty step forward to cut her off, making her pull up short. It meant that the container hit him in the chest before he managed to take it from her and set it behind him on the table – covering the photos. And then they were just standing very, very close to each other.

 _Say something_ , his brain hissed at him, as the silence opened up, punctuated only by a long roll of thunder outside. _Or kiss her._ That second impulse shocked him into actually acting on the first one. “You didn’t…” He shook his head and started again. “Thank you.”

“Any time. I don’t know what to do myself these days, when I’m not working. I’m happy to be your personal sugar enabler. But…”

“But what?”

Darcy bit her lip, and her face turned a little more serious. “I was going to ask how come you’re not at the party – given that you do know them and you’re, you know, an Avenger and all – and then I realized I’m probably busting in on your only chance to get some peace and quiet here.” She nodded to the pile of boxes, as another lingering roll of thunder sounded, louder and closer than the one before. “Are you… okay? I mean, it’s none of my business and I don’t mean to sound like you can’t handle it and… I just don’t want you to…” Thunder again, and the drum of rain. “Never mind. I should get out of your hair and let you get on with stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t go.” The words came out before he could stop himself, and then he realized what he sounded like, given that he’d greeted her by pulling a damn knife. “I mean… you’re not… in my hair. You’re not disturbing me. And it’s pouring out there now. I’m sorry,” he added. “I’m not very good at this anymore. Talking to people.”

“We don’t have to talk.” She smiled up at him, and it struck him that she really didn’t seem to have an agenda. “If you don’t want. Although that just now was the most you’ve ever said to me, so… progress?” Before he could respond to that, she looked around the room. “We could put a movie on or something. I’m sure you’ve probably got loads of pop culture to catch up on, and I have excellent taste. Or if you need to keep reading that stuff, I can chill out on the couch till the rain stops. Or… again, not trying to overstep, but if you need a hand going through any of it… or some moral support while you deal with it…” She was talking faster and faster as she went. He was used to people being afraid of him, but this felt different, like she was more worried about his opinion of her than whether or not he was liable to pull a weapon. Pull a weapon _again_ , he corrected himself.

“It’s all in Russian.”

“I know some Russian.”

Now that threw him for a loop. “How do you know Russian?”

She gave a one-shoulder shrug, like it was no big deal. “I studied political science. I was planning to go to grad school and do international affairs – you know, till I took that internship with Jane and my life went crazy – so it made sense to spend most of my electives on languages. My Russian isn’t awesome, but I could probably at least help you put things in order or whatever.”

It wasn’t exactly news to him that she was a smart dame, but he was still a little taken aback – and then immediately felt ashamed of himself for being surprised. People probably underestimated her all the damn time. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But you do, and it seems like a pretty shitty thing to be alone with,” she replied. “I mean, you don’t even know me, so if you’d rather have one of your friends help, I won’t be offended, like, at all. But you shouldn’t have to tackle this by yourself. If nothing else, time is supposedly of the essence and you’d get through it quicker with an assist.”

“It’s…” About to try and raise another objection, he stopped himself and asked his real question. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because more people should be.” She said it without a trace of hesitation, like she’d been thinking it for a while. “Because you’re obviously a good person, and you seem like you can’t let yourself believe that. Because I’ve spent a lot of years just science-ing with Jane and I could use some more friends. And besides,” she added, her face turning from serious business to mischief, “have you _seen_ you? I want to get in on the ground floor and get to be friends with the super-hot new Avenger before you hit the news cycle and all the ladies start sending you fan mail and smutty propositions. Probably some of the men, too, let’s be real.”

He didn’t let himself land too long on the fact that she’d called him ‘hot’ – she was kidding around, of course – but she was so vehement about it that he couldn’t help laughing. “Achievement unlocked,” she said, beaming at him.

“What?”

“Knew there was a way to make you smile,” she explained, looking pleased with herself. “Now you should have a cookie. After all, civilization is only twenty-four hours and two meals away from barbarism, right? That’s from a book,” she added, saving him having to ask. “It’s great, I’ll hook you up. So. What do you say?”

He furrowed his brow. She was going to take some keeping up with. “About what?”

“Are you cool with me helping you sort through all this stuff, or would you rather we just hang out till the rain stops?”

He took a deep breath. “I could use the help, but…”

“I’ve already sorted through some of the American Hydra files, remember? The digital stuff?” All the laughter was gone from her eyes now, and her voice was quieter. “Even just skimming, I know there’s horrible stuff here. I’ll tell you if I need a break, but I’m pretty tough, you know.”

For a second or two, Bucky wondered if he was about to wake up – the dreams he’d had about Darcy Lewis had never been like _this,_ but one way or another she seemed too good to be true. She wasn’t going away, though, and she was still waiting for his answer. “If you’re sure.”

Darcy nodded. “I’m sure.”


	15. Chapter 15

Considering that she’d headed over to Building A intending to just drop off some treats for everyone as a surprise while they were all out at the party, Darcy’s night had taken one hell of a turn. She’d somehow managed to get Bucky talking a little, make him laugh – and god, did _that_ ever feel like a victory – and have him take her up on the offer of help with the grim task of sorting through his Hydra files. Now he was just staring at her, though, looking more than a little lost on what to do next.

“Why don’t I just start making some piles?” she offered. There were seven or eight open boxes, and even at a casual glance she could see that most of them held a mix of stuff; she assumed it must have all been chucked in together when they were retrieving the files from wherever they’d gotten them. Somewhere in Russia, presumably. “If I separate out, say, files, videos, books… and then sort them by date, to the extent they’re dated? Then it might be easier for you to make sense of them.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” he replied eventually. “Are you sure this is what you want to spend your night doing?”

The harder he tried to let her off the hook, the more determined she felt. “Well, this stuff is nobody’s idea of a good time,” she began, waving her hand at the boxes. “But since you’ve gotta get through it, I’d rather hang out with you and help than sit around in my room refreshing Instagram five thousand times. And no more asking why I’m being nice to you,” she added, pointing a finger at him. “I just am, okay? Now come on, let’s just do this. I bet we can get a bunch of it at least sorted.”

Bucky looked at her for a few more seconds, his eyes saying about eight thousand things she couldn’t quite read. “Okay.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she pulled up a chair and grabbed the nearest box. The first thing inside were a couple of notebooks marked with dates on the covers, and it looked like Bucky had already started a pile of similar ones, so she reached across and added to it. Under them was a film canister, the kind she’d only seen once or twice in grade school, the kind you needed a projector for. For some reason it tripped her up, drove home the fact that Bucky had to be about a hundred years old, that he really was the same guy she’d studied in high school history. It was a bit like the way it still hit her afresh every now and then that Thor was from space and had been around since Viking times: the brain just didn’t know how to reckon with the improbability of it. Aware that Bucky still hadn’t sat down, she shook off the momentary strangeness and looked at the film’s label properly. It was faded, hard to make out, and there was a word that defeated her. “Nineteen-forty-five, it says ‘American subject’ but I don’t know the other word. I’m guessing it’s important, though.”

She found a clear space further down the table to start a video pile and was going to move on to the next thing, but Bucky came around to her side of the table and looked over her shoulder. “Prosthesis. They… You’ll see that word a lot.”

“Shit.” Had the bastards actually filmed themselves putting Bucky’s metal arm on for the first time? No wonder there were so many files. She wanted to say ‘sorry’, but she’d be doing that every thirty seconds at this rate, and she didn’t want to give him any more second thoughts about letting her help. “Okay.” With a sigh, she pulled out the next thing in the box, and heard the scrape of a chair as Bucky finally sat down as well.

They seemed to get into a zone, working through the contents of the boxes with the rain and thunder outside as the only backdrop. Darcy did her best to just skim things enough to organize them, but even so, an ache was growing in her chest with each file and book and tape she added to the growing stacks on the table. She’d already had a pretty good idea, between the info that was already public and what she’d gleaned from the digital files she was working on, but it was staggering, the sheer amount of things that Hydra had done to him and documented, even without her diving into all the details. Eventually, out of the eight boxes he’d started with, he’d filled three of them back up with stuff he said was irrelevant, leaving five boxes’ worth of possibly useful material taking up most of the big table, organized into separate piles sorted by date.

“Is that all of it?” she asked, stretching her arms above her head.

Bucky looked around them, blinking as if he was coming out of a trance. “Yeah. That’s all of it. God. I thought it’d take me days to even make a start on this. What time is it?”

She’d entirely lost track. It had been just after seven when she’d wandered in with the intent to drop off cookies. “Just gone eleven-thirty,” she replied, after pulling out her phone to check. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some chocolate. Go on, crack it open,” she added, gesturing to the container she’d given him.

“I shouldn’t have kept you so long. But you’re right, I could use something too. All that stuff you made last time was so good… I hadn’t had peanut butter cookies since I don’t know when. Maybe before the war.” He picked up the container and moved it in between the two of them before taking the lid off, and gave a tired smile when he saw that she’d made the peanut butter cookies again. Then she realized that the cookies had been sitting on top of something.

“Oh, there’s some loose photos that we should probably stick in…” She reached for them, about to say she’d put them in one of the stacks they’d organized, but fell silent when she actually looked at what she’d picked up. Black-and-whites, old ones. Bucky’s hair was cropped short like in her history textbooks, and he was strapped into something that looked for all the world like an electric chair, his head restrained and what looked like a gag in his mouth. Cables attached to his metal arm – not the sleek dark left arm he had now, but a cruder-looking one, maybe the prototype of the one she’d seen in photos released when there’d been that manhunt for him a couple years before. His shoulder where the arm attached looked like it had been through a meat grinder, and every visible part of him was tensed, clearly in pain.

“You don’t… you don’t want to see that,” he said, his voice so quiet it barely sounded over the storm. Gently, he took the photos out of her hands and tucked them inside a volume on top of a pile of notebooks. He got to his feet, and she did too, but he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Bucky, can I…?”

That made him look. “Can you what?” He seemed almost apprehensive of her, as if the photos would have made her angry. She was angry all right, but not at him.

“Please tell me no if this isn’t cool, but… would it be okay if I give you a hug?” Everything in her was screaming to wrap him up in her arms and somehow try to make everything alright, as much as she knew that was impossible – and that it would be extremely understandable if he never wanted to be touched by anyone again, after all he'd been through.

“I… god. Yeah, that’d be okay.”

This was not at all the kind of situation she’d imagined when she’d fantasized about getting up close and personal with Bucky Barnes, but those other ideas were the furthest thing from her mind as she closed the small distance between them and squeezed him tight, her cheek against his shoulder and her arms wrapped round his back. It took him half a second to react, like he was out of practice, but then he brought his arms round her as well, and stayed like that for a moment; she could feel his big solid chest rise and fall with a breath before he loosened his hold and stepped back a bit. “Alright, now for one of those cookies,” she said, before another awkward silence could open up. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Now?”

“I mean, you probably want to go to bed, it’s late. I know I’ve already taken up your whole night, I’m sorry, I just thought maybe you might want to chill out a bit, you know, watch something light rather than try to sleep after all that, but…”

“Darcy, stop, stop, it’s okay.” He picked up a peanut butter cookie but didn’t bite into it yet. “I just thought – thought you might be tired. I’m not trying to chase you away. Look, I… why don’t I put this stuff away and you pick something for us to watch? I’m a little behind on movies and stuff.”

He gave her a shy-looking smile and just like that, the awareness of just how gorgeous he was flooded back into the front of her mind – mixing all together with the empathy and protectiveness and indignation on his behalf that the Hydra shit had dredged up, plus the new knowledge of exactly how he felt in her arms. Fuck, she was in trouble. “Um, right. Movie.” Shifting over towards the lounge half of the room, she turned the big TV on and started browsing through movies, rejecting anything scary or too serious and _definitely_ rejecting anything romantic or sexy in the name of her own sanity. “I’m assuming you haven’t seen Ghostbusters?”

“Trust me, if it came much after Gone With the Wind, you can assume I haven’t seen it,” he replied, putting the lid on one box and starting to shift another stack of materials into the next one.

“This one _slightly_ predates me, but it’s a classic.” She got it cued up, but waited till he was done with the boxes before starting it.

“You sure a ghost movie is a good thing to be starting at nearly midnight?” he asked.

She’d taken a seat at one end of the long couch, leaving him with a few choices of where to sit, and she tried not to read anything into it when he settled on the couch as well rather than taking one of the armchairs. Even better was the fact that he was talking, almost joking a little, and that he’d brought the box of cookies with him. This felt good, it felt like maybe _friends._ “It’s a comedy, I promise. But if you hate it, just say the word.”

Bucky was glued to it almost immediately, though, munching his way through a good portion of the treats, a smile on his face that only flickered a little when they showed some of the iconic Manhattan landmarks. “Have you been there?” she asked, when the New York Public Library filled the screen.

“Ssh.”

“Did you just shush me?” she asked, blurting it out in honest disbelief.

“Watch the movie, doll. I want to see what happens.”

Darcy sat back, trying and failing to keep her attention on the Ghostbusters and not on Bucky’s profile. _Doll?_ She was sure it had just slipped out and didn’t mean anything more than just him being more comfortable around her, but god, she could get used to being pet-named by James Buchanan Barnes.

As the movie went on, she started to wonder when the party in the main building was going to break up. Would Sam and the others find it weird if they came home and found the two of them hanging out? But the Ghostbusters saved the day – making Bucky laugh out loud multiple times in the process – and the credits rolled without a sign of anyone else. “So, is it safe to say I can recommend you more movies in future?”

“Yes. Please. Fuck, I needed that,” he replied, shaking his head a little. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Shouldn’t be cursing in front of a lady.”

Darcy laughed. “Oh, dude, I hope it’s not going to disappoint you as you get used to how much I swear. You don’t need to filter yourself for me.” And then she gave in to the yawn that had been threatening for a few minutes.

“It’s late. I’ll walk you home.”

About to say that it wasn’t needed – after all, what the hell was liable to happen to her inside the heavily-guarded Avengers compound? – she stopped herself just in time. “God, apologizing for saying ‘fuck’ and now walking me to my door? Such a gentleman.”

He gave a little exhale that was almost a laugh. “My ma did her best. Come on, I think the rain’s stopped for now.”

The storm had let up, but the heat hadn’t broken; walking from the air-conditioned building out into the still, hazy night felt a bit like stepping into a sauna. “Aren’t you roasting in that?” she asked, nodding to Bucky’s sweatpants and long-sleeved tee.

“Got used to having to hide my arm. Force of habit.”

“Everybody’s seen it here, though.” She realized as she said it, though, that he might well have other reasons to want to cover up. Maybe he had scars, or maybe all the time in cryo-freeze had messed up his thermoregulation. “Sorry, forget I said that. You should wear whatever you’re comfortable in. I am very big on body autonomy and not shaming people for what they wear or don’t wear but sometimes I still do it. Please call me out if I do that again.”

He paused and turned his head to look at her, brow furrowed. “Didn’t think there was anything wrong with your question. Why… oh.” His expression changed a little. “People give you a hard time about how you dress?”

She shrugged. “Not so much lately, and I don’t care as much as I used to, but I… let’s say I grew into my adult shape by about age eleven, so there were a lot of ‘dress code violations’ in high school that I’d get written up for that were more about my body than the clothes I was putting on it.”

It wasn’t that she’d _meant_ to draw his attention to her boobs, but she had to admit that she didn’t mind when she caught him very quickly looking, or that there was just a hint of colour in his cheeks as they came into the pool of light by Building B’s front door. No, she didn’t mind that at all. It didn’t mean anything, of course, but she was going to enjoy it all the same. “Guess some things haven’t changed as much as they should have,” he replied, holding the door open for her. “God, I can still smell the baking in here.”

“Really?” She wondered if it was part of the super-soldier thing, or if he just had _that_ much of a sweet tooth. “I’m gonna have to get more peanut butter, now that I know those are your favourite.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that… but I’m not going to say no.”

They had reached the door of her room, and for an insane moment she almost leaned in to kiss him. It _felt_ like a date, with him walking her home and all – though admittedly, not many men in her life lately would have done that without the expectation of sex at the end of the journey. Instead, she leaned back against the door and smiled at him. “Oh, you know I’m going to keep baking till you tell me to stop. And seriously, if you need any more help with those files – or just catching up on movies or whatever – you know where to find me. Literally.”

“Thank you, Darcy.” Leaning down a little, he wrapped his arms around her, giving a little sigh that just about turned her knees to rubber. Who knew the Winter Soldier would give such good hugs? “It means a lot to me. All of it.”

When he released her, it was all she could do to just open her door and not grab him by the front of his shirt and drag him in with her. Yeah, she was in trouble. So much trouble. All the trouble. “Good night, Bucky.”

He smiled, his head tilted down so that he was kind of looking up at her – and since when did he have such perfect eyelashes? “Good night, Darcy.”

Yep. Trouble. She was completely fucked.


	16. Chapter 16

It was late, and it had been a very, very long day. Two days, almost, seeing as he’d only caught a bit of sleep on the quinjet on the way back from Siberia. And yet, Bucky was lying in his big soft bed, duvet pooled around his waist, restless and wide awake. Darcy’s idea of watching a movie to distract from everything that was in those Hydra files had been a good one: he wasn’t triggered, wasn’t particularly running through those memories in his mind, or at least not any more than usual. But instead, she’d managed to fill his head with all kinds of other thoughts. Better ones, but confusing as hell.

She’d told him to stop asking why she was being so nice. Didn’t mean he wasn’t still wondering about it. Beautiful, smart, sweet girl like her should either have been long since snapped up by some lucky guy – or girl, he supposed – or be out on dates with someone different every night if she felt like. And okay, granted, there weren’t a ton of other people for her to choose from around here, but somehow it seemed like she’d decided it was her personal mission to be his friend. She felt sorry for him, that much was clear – and if she hadn’t to begin with, she definitely must after seeing those damn photos. He could live with that, though. It didn’t exactly feel like _pity_ , from her. It felt… real. Felt like under the sauce and the smarts and the slang was one of those soft hearts that just hurt when other people were hurting.

And god, having her in his arms. Twice. He knew she hadn’t meant it as anything other than innocent, but even so. Steve had hugged him a couple of times, he’d had friendly slaps on the back from Sam, the little kids in Wakanda hadn’t been shy about touching him once they’d got used to him being around – it wasn’t like Darcy had given him his first physical contact since Hydra or anything like that. But she’d sure as hell been the first woman that he’d held close in a lot of years. Since the forties, really. The thing with Romanoff, in the Red Room days, it didn’t count; no tender embraces or soft feelings there. Better than most of the other things he did as the Soldier, but not a memory he wanted to hang onto.

Darcy, though: she’d hugged him as a balm, a little scrap of comfort to offset what she’d seen of his past. And she probably hadn’t thought much of it at all, but for him it was _everything_. For a second it had felt like maybe he could just curl up inside that hug and stay there forever, wrap her kindness around him like a security blanket. And then the next second had brought him way back down to earth, the realization maybe sinking in along with the smell of her perfume, the acute awareness of her body against his, the knowledge that her breasts were up against his chest, that her hair was brushing the skin of his right arm… If he’d stayed like that much longer, things would have started stirring, would have given away some of the things he’d been thinking about behind closed doors. She wasn’t looking for any of that. It was beyond improbable that she was offering him friendship at all, and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up.

The movie, that had loosened him up. It felt good to laugh with her, to sit close to her in that dark room even if he would have preferred to be closer, preferred to still have been the carefree, slick Bucky Barnes who remembered how to pull off moves like the fake stretch across the back of the seat to sneak your arm around a girl. Darcy was fun, and her movie had made him laugh more in one night than he probably had in the past couple of years, and she wanted to show him more movies and loan him books and he figured he’d happily watch or read or do just about anything she wanted.

Trouble was, being so close to her had not done one single thing to turn off the fact that he also _wanted_ her. He could tamp it down while in her presence – and he _would_ , he’d take cold showers every damn day if that’s what it took to keep things in check and keep this new friendship on the level – but he had a feeling it was never going to go away. Especially after that second hug, at her front door.

Bucky wasn’t even totally sure which one of them had instigated that one. Maybe he had, or maybe they’d just moved at the same time, but it had felt so natural, a magnetic pull combining with some long-buried muscle memory of what you did when you saw a girl to her front door – he’d been a heartbeat away from leaning in for a kiss and fucking things up completely.

But what would it have been like? Not to have actually done it, and ruined everything. He wasn’t that stupid, even in his own head. His imagination could spin a fantasy version, though, some kind of parallel universe with him as a normal man who hadn’t been a monster for seventy years, on a date with a girl. Remembering how to flirt, how to make her blush, that feeling of knowing for sure that the kiss was what she wanted. What would she taste like, sound like? Would she let him push his body up against hers, up against the door? Maybe she’d slip her pretty little hands up under his shirt – if he was whole, if he wasn’t made of metal and scars. If he had two real hands to touch her with.

Maybe she’d open her mouth to him, wind those hands up into his hair and let her tongue slide against his. Maybe she’d make a little sound as she did it; he had a sense memory somewhere, of that feeling of a pretty girl sighing into his kiss, the way it’d reverberate straight down his spine to echo in his balls. He had a feeling Darcy wouldn’t be shy, that she’d let somebody know exactly how good they were making her feel. He hated himself a little for the fact that his right hand was drifting south, that he was pushing down his underwear to wrap his fingers round his cock. _Should be getting up and heading for one of those cold showers, pal._ Darcy wasn’t just a random girl from the lab now; she was his friend, and there was no way you were supposed to lie in bed thinking this way about a friend. Bucky knew he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to imagine that friend letting him into her room, or taking off her clothes, or stroking him the way he was stroking himself.

But god, it felt _good_ to want someone again, to touch himself because he was worked up over real desire for a real human, instead of just to verify his parts still worked or as a last-ditch way to try and relax enough to sleep. At least that was the excuse he gave himself as he moved his hand faster, different images blurring into each other because he couldn’t decide which fantasy idea was best, so long as Darcy was starring in all of them. He came hard - needing to bite down on his lip to keep from saying her name aloud – managed to clean up the mess, then sank straight down into sleep before he could tangle himself up in too much self-loathing.

He took that cold shower the next morning, though, before any part of him could get any more ideas. There wasn’t a lot of chance to get distracted anyhow, given that Steve was knocking on his door while he was still pulling his shirt on. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, opening up. “How was the party, punk?”

There was a soft laugh from the hallway. Stark’s AI hadn’t mentioned that Steve wasn’t alone. “It was a nice party, but we missed you there, White Wolf.” T’Challa stood in the hall, with that expression he had where you knew he was amused, but you didn’t forget he was a king either. “Steve tells me you managed to find some documents that will help smooth things over with your government.”

Bucky ran a hand through his damp hair. “Hope so. Spent most of last night trying to sort through it, see what’s gonna be useful.”

“That’s good,” Steve replied, though there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth that meant there was something else he wasn’t saying. “We should sit down with everybody and figure out what’s next, now that you’ve got the Hydra files and Wanda and Vision are back.”

Sticking his feet into his boots and doing them halfway up, Bucky followed them towards the main building. “Out with it, punk,” he said eventually, when Steve kept giving him that look.

“So you spent the night sorting Hydra files… while watching Ghostbusters? Sam turned on the TV this morning and it was still on the credits,” he added by way of explanation, still with that question-mark look on his face.

“Sorted files first, then watched the movie. To take my mind off it.”

Steve kept gnawing at it, of course. “How’d you even know that movie?”

It probably hadn’t escaped Steve that Darcy hadn’t been at the party, either, but Bucky wasn’t going to give up any more than he had to. “Darcy recommended it. It was a funny movie; you should watch it sometime.”

“Seen it. So, did she stick around and watch it with you, or just drop off cookies and a suggestion and run?”

“It’s not like that,” Bucky replied, fully aware that he wasn’t answering Steve’s question.

The punk cocked an eyebrow at him. “Like what?”

“Like whatever you’re cooking up in your head. I think we’re… friends, now,” he added, testing out saying the word out loud and liking how it felt. “So don’t go trying to make it something it ain’t, and wind up screwing this up, alright? You know, assuming I don’t wind up in prison or back on the run when all this blows up.”

Making sure things didn’t blow up the wrong way seemed to be the whole point of why Steve had knocked on his door, and why T’Challa had stuck around – and why the lounge seemed to be full of people. “Ah, finally!” Stark exclaimed as they walked up. “Capsicle and the Six Million Dollar Man, at last. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“We figured it’s just as easy to talk out here,” Rhodes added. “More comfortable, anyhow, and it’s not like anybody’s gonna bother us. Building’s clear apart from Foster and Lewis in the labs.”

Looking around, Bucky could see that indeed, it seemed like just about everyone was there: Thor was perched on a barstool with a sandwich in hand, Banner beside him. Tony had one of his weird invisible mid-air computer screens up and seemed to be moving files around. Wanda was on the couch beside… it had to be Vision, given the glowing yellow spot in his forehead, but he looked a hell of a lot more human than Bucky remembered. Sam was in an armchair, checking something on his phone, and Natasha was standing by the window. Rhodes was leaning against a wall behind Stark, and even Pepper Potts was in a corner typing something into a small laptop. Bucky was just about to follow Steve and T’Challa over towards the coffee machine when he heard a loud voice from the hallway.

“ _There_ you are, Bucky! My brother brings me all the way to New York and you didn’t even show up to the party.”

“Shuri,” he replied, breaking into a smile. “Sorry, didn’t know you’d be here.”

She waved it off. “Ah, I’ve seen plenty of you anyway. But perhaps you can help me convince _someone_ that we shouldn’t come all this way and not stop in Manhattan before we go home. I mean, really.”

Across the room, T’Challa shook his head. “Priorities.”

Before Bucky could either wade into or try to excuse himself from what was clearly a family conversation, Steve cleared his throat. “So, I guess if we’re gonna talk out here, we might as well get started. We’ve got a few different issues we’re going to need to get cleared up before we can be any kind of an effective unit again.”

“Yeah. Hands up who _isn’t_ some kind of international fugitive or missing person for the last couple of years,” Tony said, raising his own hand. “Rhodey?”

Rhodes shook his head. “I don’t know, I basically hung up on Ross when he wanted Steve arrested, so I may not be on a wanted list but I doubt I’m in anybody’s good books right now either. So I’ve pissed them off – Tony, I guarantee you’ve pissed them off too…”

“Who have I ever pissed off?”

Pepper looked up from her computer. “ _Everyone.”_

There was some laughter at that, before Steve resumed. “Okay, so Tony, you’re probably off the hook, or the closest to it anyhow. Rhodey and Vision, you may have to smooth some things over from… recent events. Thor and Bruce, you’re probably mostly in the clear, but there are going to be a lot of questions about why you’ve been missing so long. Ross was on us about that two years ago, before the accords, so they’re not going to completely let it go. We’re going to have to bring you up to speed on everything that’s happened since Sokovia.”

“Which brings us to the accords,” Tony said. He brought up a second midair screen, which was scrolling through what looked like a lot of documents. “The climate’s changed, and now’s probably our best shot to push through some serious amendments so that our hands aren’t tied. Pepper’s been working with lawyers. So many lawyers.”

“ _So_ many lawyers,” she echoed, before standing up from her chair. “We’d been working on this for a while, to be honest, and sounding out our contacts with the federal government and the UN. But there’ll be scope for a much more dramatic reworking of the accords once news is fully released about what’s happened recently.”

“What kind of reworking?” Steve asked.

“Total,” Tony replied. “We come at them with the fact that we can get the whole team to sign on and scale it all down to a very nominal degree of oversight. Bring back Maria Hill as our ‘boss’,” he added, making air quotes, “and our liaison, through the new-and-improved SHIELD, to the UN. Hell, get Fury on board if we want, for all he’s officially dead or whatever. Not a bad thing to have a command and control center.”

Most of the rest of the room were looking from one to another with what seemed like consideration and maybe cautious approval. “We’ll need a chance for all of us to go through all the details, but sounds like a good start to me,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

Steve nodded. “Sounds promising, Tony. But when we say the whole team, I _mean_ the whole team.”

“I mean the whole team too,” Tony replied. “And team-adjacent. Including the kid, and the wizard, and get the tiny ant guy and Clint off house arrest. I guess you’re exempt, Your Royalness.” He nodded to T’Challa. “But we’d love to have you. Either way – you, me, serious talk about suit tech before you head home.”

“That talk needs to be between you and my sister.” T’Challa put a hand on Shuri’s shoulder.

By this point, Steve had his hands on his hips, frowning. “Tony…”

“Yeah, yeah, I haven’t forgotten ol’ Buckaroo here. Package deal and all that.” Tony looked Bucky in the eye for the first real time since the day Bucky had offered up his list of trigger words. “Serious talk: we’ve all got kill lists, collateral damage, the works. Red on our ledgers, as Romanoff likes to say. There’s several people in this room with higher body counts than Barnes. Getting him back in the good books will be a challenge, but it’s doable.” Then he looked around the room, squinting a little like he was missing something. “Why isn’t Lewis here? I hear she’s joined Team Assassin-Redemption.” He pulled out his phone, presumably tapping out a message to her.

A moment later, Bucky heard her sneaker-clad footsteps coming down the hall. The fact that he already knew the sound of her walk was just part of his training, basic instinct at this point. But the fact that his heartrate kicked up at her approach, though, that he felt almost nervous – that was different. And then she came around the corner in a cute little polka-dot dress and those red high-tops of hers, and he lost all control over his resting poker face; he couldn’t help the smile, but the fact that he could feel himself _blushing_ was a little ridiculous. Thankfully Steve had his back turned, but Bucky was pretty sure Sam had clocked the reaction, and there was almost no chance Natasha had missed it.

And then Darcy beamed at him like he was the only person in the room, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much about what anybody else thought. Jesus, he was in deep, though: a few brief meetings, one real evening in her company and two hugs, and he was already melting like butter at the mere sight of her. He didn’t quite know how he was going to get used to hanging around as her friend, but he’d take what he could get.

_Not going to get anything if you don’t figure out how to get pardoned so you can stick around, though_ , he reminded himself. “Well,” he said aloud. “I guess I’d better tell you about Hydra.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted Chapter 16 earlier today, so make sure you read that one first!

It was quite possibly the strangest meeting Darcy had ever been to. Which was saying a lot. A room packed full of superheroes and somehow people were considering _her_ an important player, when all she’d really done was decrypt some files and step in with a clerical assist and some moral support. Pretty much what she’d been doing for Jane on some level for years. Of course, Jane was not a devastatingly handsome ex-assassin. A devastatingly handsome ex-assassin who’d broken into a million-dollar smile all of a sudden when she, Darcy Lewis, former intern, walked into the room. _How is this my life?_

“So, sound like we’ve got a plan,” Captain America – _Steve_ , she reminded herself – said, after about an hour of strategizing. “Day after tomorrow, Wakanda releases the rest of the details and video of the attacks there, along with their assessment that the threat could have been averted earlier if the whole team had been operational. At the same time, Nat and Darcy will leak a few select highlights…”

“Highlights,” Bucky echoed, one eyebrow raised.

Steve rolled his eyes. “For lack of a better word. Nat and Darcy will leak a few _key pieces of evidence_ in support of your status being revised from terrorist to POW. We let the news cycle react to that while Pepper and the legal team move things forward with the official channels. There’ll probably be hearings, and we’ll play nice with those… to a point. But we’re not letting them split us up, and _nobody_ is getting arrested or locked up.”

T’Challa nodded. “You are all welcome in Wakanda, if you find you need to be elsewhere while the details are worked out, but I hope they will hear your case fairly.”

“Lotta stuff to go through still, between now and Friday.” Bucky scratched behind one ear, looking down towards his feet like he was embarrassed to be putting them to any trouble.

Sam stood up. “How can we help?”

And so, an hour later, Darcy found herself back at the kitchen table in Building A – sitting across from Natasha Romanoff and trying not to be too terrified of her. It had been fairly quickly decided that the three people with a command of Russian should sift through the ledgers and documents, while Bucky had entrusted Steve and Sam to scan all the videos and audio tapes for him. Meanwhile, Pepper was going to confer with King T’Challa and Princess Shuri – who were really cool and not at all like Darcy’s idea of royals – on the finer details of releasing all the info to the world.

Bucky had gone to help the guys carry all the audio-visual stuff to a room in the main building that had the relevant equipment, and so far the Black Widow hadn’t said anything to Darcy beyond a fairly noncommittal agreement that a pot of coffee was a good idea. Fiddling with that had killed a few minutes, but now Darcy was sitting with a mug in front of her, wondering if it would be overstepping to dive into the books on the table before Bucky came back.

Natasha answered that by pulling a thick file off the top of a stack and opening it up. When Darcy did the same, the other woman looked up and focused on her. “Take your time – I know you’re not a native speaker – but don’t feel like you need to absorb every detail. The main things we want to focus on are evidence that Barnes was not a willing participant in Hydra’s activities. So this is going to be torture, body modifications, brainwashing. We can skip anything like mission reports; everyone knows what he’s done, and we don’t need any more attention on it. If it looks relevant, just flag it and then Barnes or I can check the details.”

“Sounds good.” Darcy had brought a stack of post-its from the lab with exactly that in mind, and she set them on the table before cracking open the first file – though she hoped Bucky would be back soon.

“And Darcy?”

“Yeah?” For a second, she was surprised that the Black Widow knew her first name, but then realized she was just surprised that she was _using_ it. Romanoff probably knew Darcy’s middle name, childhood address and social security number, but didn’t seem like a first-name kind of person.

“This is going to be brutal stuff, what was done to him. It’s a hell of a thing you’re doing, helping with it, but if you need to walk away – if you need to take a break, get some air, if it’s too triggering and you need to tap out – do what you need to. He and I are more used to this sort of thing, and nobody’s going to think less of you if it’s too much.”

Darcy blinked, realizing that she’d been caught up in the one-dimensional image of the Black Widow and not given Natasha credit for being human. “Thanks. I’ll take a breather if I need to, but I _want_ to do this. I mean, not in a stalkery, ‘I’m morbidly curious about these files’ kind of way, but just… I want to help. He seems like a good dude.” She decided to leave it at that, before she wound up blushing like a middle-school kid or something, but she was aware of Natasha briefly raising an eyebrow before they both turned their attention back to the files.

Bucky joined them a few minutes later, and they forged ahead through the boxes of documents without too much conversation, apart from occasional comments noting useful evidence, or the couple of times Darcy had to ask for clarification on Russian words she didn’t recognize. She had to force herself to skim the documents, because she knew that if she really digested every detail she’d wind up wanting to wrap Bucky in a blanket, or burst into tears, or both – neither of which would actually be any _help_ to him at the moment. Being accustomed to Jane’s work patterns, she didn’t find it that unusual to sit focused on the same task for hours at a time, and so she got all the way to eleven-fifteen before needing a break. “Be right back,” she said quietly as she got up.

Given that the basic layout of both residential buildings was the same, it didn’t take her long to find the bathroom just off the lounge, and after using the facilities she took an extra few seconds to breathe and run her fingers through a couple of stray knots in her hair. It seemed like they were on the home stretch with the records – there had still been a couple of piles on the table when she stood up, but all the boxes had been emptied out. And despite her attempts to stay on the surface of the documents, it felt a bit like her heart had been hollowed out as well. When she’d first encountered him, she’d thought he was twitchy and a little paranoid: now that she had a real sense of what he’d been through, she was in absolute awe of the fact that he was sane and whole and _himself_ in the wake of it. If it was just her and Bucky, she might have suggested finishing up the evening with a movie to clear the air. She could still make the suggestion to both him and Natasha, right? “Sure,” she told herself quietly in the mirror. “Looks less like the sad girl with the crush that way anyhow.”

When she left the washroom, though, she was surprised to see Bucky and Natasha leaning in close at the corner of the table, discussing something in low voices. Natasha looked intense – what else was new – and his expression was somewhere between nervous and pissed off, and they both had turned away from the remaining files and ledgers, as if the Hydra documents weren’t the thing they were talking so intently about. And then Bucky’s gaze flicked over to where Darcy was standing and he straightened up abruptly, before smiling at her. “You okay?”

She blinked. “Yeah, of course. We’re nearly done, huh?”

“Yeah, looks like.” He looked around at the table as if noticing it all for the first time. Then he glanced back at Romanoff. “Thanks to both of your help.”

Taking her seat, Darcy tried to focus her attention back on the files in front of her, but she was working on something close to autopilot, still trying to piece together the altered dynamic in the room. And then she decoded a familiar name in the Cyrillic text in front of her: _Natalia Romanova._ Scanning over the lines, she got the gist of it, and suddenly everything fell into place. Of course: the two assassins, the two former Soviet assets, these two unspeakably gorgeous people, they’d been together at some point in the previous decade. Seemed like it had led to some unpleasant consequences at the hands of their handlers, but why wouldn’t they try to put things back together when they were reunited? No wonder they’d been whispering together while she was out of the room.

If she’d been a more ambitious sort of woman, it might have stung, but she’d always known Bucky was out of her reach; if anything, it was almost a relief to have it confirmed. And she was suddenly glad she’d stuck to an innocent _he seems like a good dude_ about her motives in helping him. The absolute last thing she needed was to seem like she was angling for the Black Widow’s boyfriend. Not that Darcy was any competition. And she _did_ want to be Bucky’s friend. Hell, maybe she could get to be friends with both of them, if she was careful not to overstep.

Of course, holding that thought in her mind just served to make her all the more aware of Bucky’s presence, his movements in her peripheral vision. His knee not that far from hers, under the table; she could imagine shifting her position and brushing her leg against his. The way he kept having to tuck strands of hair behind his ear when it fell in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned her focus back to the ledger in front of her rather than indulging in thoughts of what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair, maybe push it all back off his face so she could kiss him. “Fuck,” she muttered, then closed the book to find two former assassins looking at her with raised eyebrows. “Sorry,” she added. “Wasted too much time on this book and then realized it’s too recent to be much use.”

“We’ve got lots of good evidence, though,” Natasha replied. “And these are the last couple of files.” Nodding, she indicated the manila folder open in front of her, and the slightly thicker one that Bucky was paging through. “Just as well; I think we’re all tired.”

Darcy knew how to take a hint: no after-midnight movie this time. “Yeah, I should probably get out of your hair. Night, guys.”

As she got up to go, Bucky stood as well. “I can walk you back, if you want.”

“It’s okay.” Truth be told, the offer gave her a little thrill, even though she knew for sure now that he was just being polite, maybe seeing her like a kid sister. “You guys probably want some peace and quiet before everybody else gets back. Let me know when we need to drop the info on the world.”

“I…” Bucky had an odd look on his face. “You said there was a book you were gonna loan me?”

She wasn’t sure if he was just trying to save her feelings or if he was actually curious, but she wasn’t going to turn down a legit excuse to see him again. “Sure. I’ll bring it by tomorrow.”

An awkward silence hung in the air for a second. What she really wanted to do was hug him again, the way she’d done the night before, but that suddenly felt like a huge tick in the ‘overstepping’ column. Instead, she just smiled, then turned and walked out into the night before she could change her mind.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky watched Darcy leave, trying to figure out how the evening had ended so differently from the one before. Maybe a second night of Hydra horrors had pushed her over the edge, or maybe it was hearing him talk about it at the meeting. Or maybe Romanoff had scared her away. “What’d you say to Darcy, before I came back?”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she stood up and pushed her chair in. “Just to pace herself with the files. Take a break if it was triggering. Nothing I wouldn’t have told anyone else, especially a civilian.”

Frowning, he looked at the door, feeling like he wanted to run after Darcy but knowing he had no right to. What had he done wrong?

“You really like this girl.” Natasha didn’t make it a question.

“Leave it.”

“If you say so. Night, Barnes.”

Natasha headed upstairs, and Bucky walked out into the still-muggy night. He didn’t actually go after Darcy, but the stars and the sound of frogs in the distance seemed like better company than the Hydra files and his own thoughts. There was a bench by the running track, not far from the river, well away from most of the buildings, and he took a seat there. It was the first of August – maybe technically the second now, given that it had to be after midnight - just over a week since the battle with Thanos. Two weeks ago, Bucky had been tending to goats in the Wakandan countryside. Now he was back in the States, with one more day standing between him and whatever was going to blow up when his life got leaked to the world. And somehow in the midst of all of that, he was out here in the middle of the damn night because he was mixed-up about a girl.

Not a girl, he corrected himself: a woman. Darcy might be young – probably too young for the likes of his ancient self to be thinking of the way he did – but there was nothing unfinished or trivial about her. And mixed-up wasn’t the right term either. If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he was completely, stupidly, pointlessly gone on her. He’d only known her a few days, she was never going to look at him that way, and he hadn’t even thought it was a possibility that he’d ever have these kinds of feelings again, but there it was.

As lost causes went, at least it was a sweet one. He’d take her friendship, enjoy whatever time and affection she wanted to spare him, and tuck all the rest of it out of sight. Steve might needle him a bit, but he wouldn’t interfere. Romanoff, though – given their own history, Bucky supposed he could see why she’d made assumptions, but thinking over what she’d said while Darcy had been out of the room, he had to get up and start pacing back and forth on the track. _Remember that she’s not enhanced,_ Natasha had said, out of the blue, the moment they’d heard the lock click on the bathroom door. _She’s breakable_ , Romanoff had added, when he’d asked what the hell she was talking about. _So don’t you dare use her as an outlet. Some of the things we did in the Red Room would injure her, if you forget your strength, even for a second,_ she’d elaborated. That was when he’d gotten angry, and Nat had compounded it by telling him not to forget he could get Darcy pregnant. _That wasn’t me in the Red Room, that was the Soldier, and you fucking know that,_ he’d hissed, hoping to hell Darcy wasn’t going to come back and overhear any of it. _And if you want me to apologize for the Soldier, say so, because I’m well aware that I’ve been a goddamn monster for most of my life now, but all I’m trying to be with that girl is friends._

There had been more he’d wanted to say, if Darcy hadn’t walked back in the room then to find him and Romanoff staring each other down. Not that any of it was Natasha’s business, but he’d wanted to say that if the impossible happened and Darcy Lewis ever _did_ somehow look at him as anything more than a pal, he would treat her with the respect she deserved, and not put a finger – or anything else – on her in any kind of way she didn’t want.

And then he remembered the night before. Not the hugs, or the movie, or the cookies, but the fact that he’d greeted Darcy by pulling a goddamn knife out because she’d startled him. Romanoff might be wildly overestimating the nature of his relationship with Darcy, but maybe she wasn’t so far off in giving him a warning to tread carefully. He’d been jumpy since they’d left Wakanda, and it wasn’t like things were about to be any calmer any time soon. And he’d need to be able to prove he had his head on straight for whatever kind of hearings or trial he was going to have to face, never mind any of the daydreams he was trying to distract himself with.

A beep from his pocket dislodged him from his train of thought, and he pulled out his phone, wondering who could be looking for him at this hour of the night. Turned out it was Wilson, saying that he and Steve had finished sorting through all the video and audio footage. Bucky composed a quick reply – thankful that Shuri had thought to configure his new left arm so that he could type two-handed, because texting was enough to get used to on its own – and then thought for a minute before adding something else. _You said you used to talk to the vets at the VA._

Sam replied right away. _Offer still stands. You wanna talk, I’m listening. Just let me know._

Running a hand over his hair, Bucky sucked in a breath. He’d called himself ‘semi-stable’ when Steve and the others had touched down in Wakanda, not even ten days ago, and he knew that even that was a hell of a lot of progress from a couple of years before. But if he was going to get his name cleared, if he was going to be a real teammate to all these people here – and if he wanted to even _think_ about being friends with a sweet, normal, _breakable_ person like Darcy – he was going to have to keep working his way towards getting rid of that ‘semi-‘ qualifier. _Yeah, I could do with getting some of this out of my head. You got any time tomorrow?_

He almost changed his mind the next morning, having visions of being strapped down in a chair and interrogated – knowing they were unrealistic but having them all the same – but Wilson made it simple, knocked on his door in gym clothes and suggested they take an easy few laps round the perimeter of the compound while Bucky talked about whatever was on his mind. He still hadn’t known where to start, but Sam had asked a couple of questions and got him talking about going through all the Hydra documents and his doubts about what was coming next. Mostly, Sam just listened, didn’t react or make big plans or look worried or generally do any of the well-meaning Steve Rogers things that usually kept Bucky quiet. Nearly two hours passed before Bucky realized it. “Sorry,” he said, slowing his pace to a walk, then stopping. “Shouldn’t’ve taken up so much of your day.”

“It’s alright. Didn’t usually run a half-marathon at the same time as a session at the VA, though,” Sam replied, with an out-of-breath sort of laugh. “Feel any lighter, getting some of that out?”

Lighter. It was a good way to describe it. “Tons more where that came from, but yeah. Thanks.”

“Any time, man. Just say the word.” Sam glanced over his shoulder at the entrance to the main building. “I’m gonna go hit the showers, but we all oughta meet later and figure out the details for how this is all going down tomorrow.”

As if summoned, both their phones sounded at once. Pulling his out, Bucky saw a message from Steve, calling a meeting for eleven-thirty.

“The Man with the Plan, right on cue,” Sam said. “See you in an hour.”

Bucky nodded, and headed back to his own room to shower and change, though he made a mental note that he should probably keep a change of clothes in the locker room as well. That would mean actually buying some more clothes beyond the small duffel bag he was currently living out of, though, which meant settling in, which somehow felt like tempting fate until he knew whether he was even going to be allowed to stay in the country once the authorities found out he was there. The next day felt like a wall on the calendar that he couldn’t quite see past, couldn’t get his head all the way around the idea of making plans based on an assumption that things would work out in his favour.

He was jolted out of his train of thought when he came in the front door of Building A and spotted a small item in front of the door to his room. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Can you scan that package at my door?”

“Already done. No harmful substances or devices detected. It appears to be a book.”

“Thanks,” he replied, before wondering if the same social courtesies really applied to an artificial intelligence. Moving closer, he saw that it was indeed a book, and it looked like a well-loved one. There was a sticky note on the front, in handwriting he already recognized as Darcy’s:

_Hi Bucky,_

_This might help you catch some of my random references. If you like it, these authors have a ton more stuff, and there’s going to be a tv series of this one soon._

_Cheers,_

_Darcy_

Something had been scribbled out just before ‘cheers’, and he idly wondered what she’d written and crossed out. ‘Love’? Probably not, but it was nice to imagine for a second. Peeling the note off, he noted the book title – Good Omens. Curious about why Darcy had picked this book to lend to him, he flipped it over, but the back cover didn’t give him any clues. He tucked her note inside the book and headed inside, wondering if he had time to read a page or two before the meeting.


	19. Chapter 19

“So realistically, what’s our most likely scenario?”

It was Steve that asked the question, after an hour and a half of detail on how all the info releases were going to play out, but it was the same question Darcy had been wondering all through the meeting. What was going to be the outcome of all of it? Particularly for Bucky, but she was getting attached to having the Avengers around in general, and hated the thought that half of them might have to disappear back to Wakanda or something if things didn’t go their way.

But particularly Bucky. He was with Natasha, granted – Darcy couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t sitting together in the meeting, but she supposed they kept it professional while at work – but the idea that he might have to leave, or worse, kept drumming around in Darcy’s head. Her deepening crush on him was bound to leave her bruised around the edges one way or the other, but she couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to see him at all.

“I’ve sounded out some generally sympathetic contacts at the UN, and the Pentagon,” Pepper said, standing up at the far end of the table. “They’re amenable to the draft we’d prepared for amendments to the Accords. Sergeant Barnes’ case is more complex, and we should prepare for a hearing; we’ve got the head of our legal team coming in this afternoon to speak with you about how they plan to approach it,” she added, her gaze falling on Bucky. “They’d like to have you sign an agreement that you’ll remain within the confines of the compound here, until such time as your status gets finalized.”

It sounded to Darcy like a very polite way to say ‘house arrest’, and from the way Steve Rogers was visibly bristling, it was clear he felt the same, but she saw Bucky give Steve a barely-there shake of the head. “Not like I’m going anywhere anyhow,” Bucky replied, his voice low. “And beats getting thrown in the Raft, or worse.”

“What do they expect in terms of hearings?” Romanoff asked, from across the table.

A lot of legal terms filled up Pepper’s answer; Darcy got the gist that there definitely would be some kind of trial or hearing or something, and it didn’t seem like it’d be the in-and-out, done-in-a-day kind of thing. She’d been focused on what she could do to help weed through Hydra’s data for evidence to help clear Bucky’s name, and she’d thought about how he’d feel having it all spilled out for the world’s consumption, but in her mind’s eye she’d mostly been thinking about the media, about his name being splashed all over the front pages. But he was going to have to sit in a courtroom or a judicial chamber or in front of Congress or something and hear it all, hear it all and wait for somebody to decide whether he’d suffered enough already to get some kind of a break. The thought seemed to steal the air out of her lungs, and she found herself digging her nails into her palms till it hurt, as she watched him sitting there quietly, the way his gaze seemed set on the wood grain of the table, his body almost eerily still. It was a stupid impulse, but she found herself wishing she was seated next to him so she could take his hand, or touch his arm – something to anchor him – and though she knew it wouldn’t have been appropriate in a meeting anyhow, it still bugged her that Natasha hadn’t chosen to sit beside him for what had to be a difficult meeting to sit through.

Eventually, the meeting drew to a close. Darcy and Natasha would be ready the next morning around ten to release the torrent of Hydra information to a few carefully-chosen sources, just as soon as they’d received confirmation that Wakanda had put out their footage of the Avengers fending off Thanos. There wasn’t much else she could do to help before that time, so she decided she’d better get back to Jane’s lab and make up for lost time with her original boss. But just as she was about to open the lab door, she heard her name from down the corridor.

“Darcy,” Bucky repeated, half-jogging up to her before she disappeared inside. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied, unable to help herself smiling at him, despite all the overtones of what was coming in less than twenty-four hours. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I…” He was standing a little close, almost in her personal space, but she didn’t mind a bit. “I wanted to thank you for the book. Only had time to read a couple pages before the meeting.”

She shrugged. “It’s… kind of a weird book. You don’t have to read it, if you don’t dig it.”

“No, I want to. I liked that movie you picked. And it’s been…” He trailed off.

“It’s been what?”

Bucky ran a hand over his hair and didn’t quite meet her eye. “Been a while since anybody tried to find things I might like. Movies, books, cookies… not sure I deserve you being so nice to me.”

If she hadn’t figured out about him and Romanoff, she might have been almost delusional enough to think he was trying to flirt with her; instead she wondered for a second if he was trying to warn her off. “It’s how I make friends and influence people,” she replied, trying to pitch her tone like it was no big deal and not like she’d baked specifically for him, gone home feeling sorry for herself when she hadn’t been able to snag another late-night movie viewing with him, or loaned him one of the only books she cared about enough to lug back and forth every time she moved. “And besides,” she added, the words spilling out before she could stop herself, “the way your last few… decades… have been, I can’t think of anybody who deserves some ‘nice’ more than you.”

It was embarrassing, the way a simple thing like him smiling at her could make her feel a little weak in the knees. _Not yours, not yours, not yours,_ she reminded herself. “I was just…”

Halfway through Bucky’s sentence, the lab door opened, almost making Darcy fall inward as she’d forgotten she was leaning on it. “Darcy, oh thank god,” Jane blurted out, before doing a double-take. “Oh. Sergeant Barnes. Was there more with your…?” Silence fell for a second after she trailed off.

“Oh. Uh, no. I…” He bit his lip, looking like there was something he wasn’t quite saying. “I’ll let you get back to your work. I know this shit of mine is taking up too much of your time.”

Silently cursing Jane’s timing, Darcy shook her head. “Stop it. I’m happy to help.” But Jane was still hovering there, waiting for her. “But now that I know you’re going to read the book, I expect to hear your candid opinions on it.” _Not too flirty, right? Black Widow won’t slit my throat in my sleep?_

Bucky gave her a half-smile. “I’ll do that.”

By the time Darcy was leaving the labs, it was well into the evening, the sky lit up pink and orange with the disappearing sun. She paused for a few minutes to watch the changing colours, debating whether to just collapse into bed with a trashy novel when she got in; it was early, but she had a feeling that it might be the last really quiet evening for a while. Almost as a reflex, she checked her phone, surprised to see she had several notifications; she must have forgotten to turn her volume back on after having turned it off for the meeting in the morning.

A far bigger surprise was opening up her texts to see _James Barnes_ at the top of the list. She had known that her fancy new Starkphone had come with the numbers programmed in for all the key residents of the compound, but since she mostly just texted Jane these days, she hadn’t really paid much attention to the list. For a moment, she just stared at the screen, nerves upside-down like a teenager, before she clicked to see what he wanted to say.

_I like the book so far. Aziraphale kinda reminds me of Steve somehow, but can’t put my finger on why._

_Also I’m sorry if all those files and stuff upset you last night. Or if I did something wrong, it seemed like you just wanted to get out of there. That’s what I wanted to say after the meeting._

“Jesus, you are too good to be true,” she murmured to herself, before moving on to his final text, which was only about twenty minutes old.

_Steve’s ordering a bunch of pizzas and wants us all to watch movies tonight. If you’re not still working maybe you could join us, you’ve probably got better taste than he does._

“Oh hell yes.” She glanced down at herself, debating whether she should shower and change first, before deciding to just pop into her room to brush her teeth and make sure her hair wasn’t in too much of a rat’s nest – after all, Bucky had already seen her earlier, and doing a full costume change just for a group pizza-and-movie hang would _definitely_ making it look like she was reading too much into things. She took a moment to change his contact listing from _James_ to _Bucky_ before replying.

_Sounds awesome. Just left the lab, be right over._


	20. Chapter 20

“Should we have gotten more pizzas? I’m feeling like we should get a couple more pizzas.” Sam was looking around the room as if people were liable to pop up from anywhere. “I mean, Thor was supposed to be back at some point before this all goes public tomorrow, right? If he lightnings in here, I guarantee he’ll put a couple away just by himself.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling that – despite having pretty much anything available at your fingertips – you boys just want there to be a few cold pizzas left over to have for breakfast?”

Bucky watched them bantering back and forth as he asked himself for the fourth or fifth time whether it had been a dumb idea to invite Darcy. He couldn’t quite get a read on how much she might want to be around him, not after her abrupt departure the night before. But a chime from his phone drew his attention; unlocking it, he found her reply. _Sounds awesome. Just left the lab, be right over._ It sent a faint thrum through his nerves, a distant memory of a time when anticipation meant a chance of something good instead of an enemy waiting to strike. It was nice to have that feeling back, even if the ‘something good’ just meant Darcy’s company or seeing what her choice of movie might be. He just hoped that the rest of them wouldn’t make some kind of big deal out of her showing up – that Steve wouldn’t get that proud-dad look on his face that seemed to crop up any time Bucky did anything that could be construed as an echo of his old Brooklyn self. As much as he loved Steve, _that face_ was already becoming a well-meaning thorn in his side.

Before he could think too much about it, the whole room was unnaturally lit up for a second from a flash of light from outside. “See?” Sam announced. “What’d I tell you? Thor. I’m getting more pizzas.”

“I’m going to go see what’s up,” Steve said, getting up from the couch. “Don’t start a movie without me.”

“Now see, that just makes me want to start a movie,” Sam replied, as Steve headed out the door. “And no old-time shit either. No offense, Barnes.”

Bucky shook his head. “None taken.” He hadn’t actually sat down and watched a film with Steve since before he’d shipped out all those years ago, but he’d heard enough to know that Steve was still set on working his way through several decades’ worth of ‘classics’ he’d missed. And then he had a thought, and pulled out his phone. _What movie do you want to see? I can put in a vote for it now before they get other ideas._

Darcy replied quickly. _Who’s there? What do they like?_

_Sam, Steve, Nat, don’t know if anybody else is coming. Don’t worry about what they like, I don’t know anyhow._

_How about Lord of the Rings?_

_What’s that_ , he replied.

_Oh wait, I thought the books might have been out before the war but I guess it was after. Fantasy adventure with wizards and swordfighting and stuff. If that sounds good to you you’ll love it, and if it doesn’t sound good you’ll hate it._

_Like King Arthur?_ It was a flash of memory, of a book he’d taken out of the Brooklyn Public Library several times as a kid.

_Not exactly, but kind of, I guess? Am literally walking out my door right now so can come up with other ideas if that isn’t your thing._

Bucky found himself smiling at his phone – then glanced over his shoulder to verify that nobody had caught him doing it. _Sounds good to me._

“Lord of the Rings,” he said aloud, and had the satisfaction of seeing Sam’s eyebrows almost meet his hairline. Even Natasha looked surprised, though it hardly showed on her.

“And Barnes comes in with an opinion out of left field,” Sam replied. “Since when do you like that fantasy stuff?”

Natasha flicked the briefest of looks at Bucky, one that said she knew he hadn’t pulled that suggestion out of thin air, before giving Sam a half-shrug. “You said no old movies. Lord of the Rings is from this century. And at least Clint’s not here to critique Legolas’s technique.”

“You got me there.” Sam shook his head. “Alright, we’ll give Steve ten minutes, but we’d better fire it up soon if we’re going to watch that; it’s a long-ass movie.”

“What’s a long-ass movie?” Darcy’s voice sounded from the front door, as if she hadn’t just been the one to give the suggestion. Bucky couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he turned to see her standing there. She was still in the same clothes as when he’d seen her before – some kind of loose green thing that might have been a very large t-shirt or a very small dress, over black tights – but she’d taken her hair down, and he couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through it.

Giving himself a bit of a shake, he was about to answer her when Sam spoke up instead. “Oh, come on. I see where this guy’s getting his movie recommendations from,” he said, laughing. “I guess I should be thanking you for saving us from Cap choosing Ben-Hur or something. C’mon in, our casa su casa and all that. First round of pizza should be here any second.”

“How many rounds did you order?” She was replying to Wilson, but Bucky could see the way her eyes kept bouncing back to him as she stood there, still only a few steps in the doorway. It took him a second to clue in that he wasn’t being much of a host.

“Come in,” Bucky told her – wishing he could hold out a hand for her to take. He used his right hand to gesture at the lounge area instead. “Might as well pick a seat while you can.” _Fuck, I sound like a jerk. I used to know how to do this._ “Do you want something to drink?”

“Ooh, what have you got?” Darcy actually followed him to the fridge and peeked around him to see what was inside, so close behind him that he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He was seized for a second by imagining what it would be like if she pressed up against his back and wrapped her arms around him, before he remembered to reply.

“Um… water, soda, white wine, beer… pomegranate juice?”

“There’s vodka and stuff too, in the cupboard,” Natasha added, leaning against the counter.

Darcy stepped back from him, as if Romanoff had startled her. “A beer sounds good. I’m trying to lay off the hard stuff these days.”

Bucky wasn’t sure which of the assorted bottles and cans would be best – when the hell did beer have to get so complicated, anyhow? – but picked a couple at random and showed them to her. “Any preference?”

She tilted her head to one side and pushed her glasses further up on her nose. “Hmmm, this one,” she replied, taking the one that was in his left hand. Her fingers brushed his for half a second – something he could feel much better with the arm Shuri had made for him than he ever would have been able to do with the Hydra prosthetic – and he wondered if she’d done it on purpose, chosen the left option just to prove to him that she wasn’t scared of his metal hand.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Darcy asked, jolting Bucky out of his thoughts. He followed her gaze to the window, beyond which somebody was driving up in some kind of a golf cart. “Is this the pizza? Oh god, this poor guy is probably a regular-flavour secret agent if he’s got this kind of security clearance, and today his job is to ferry pizzas over from the front door to here. This place is so surreal. I just can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

She blinked, then gave him a goofy sort of smile that should not have been as attractive as it was. “You really _are_ a hundred years old, aren’t you?” And then when Sam bust out laughing in the background, she put her head in her hands. “Shit, I sound like an asshole. It’s just… an expression for when you can’t process something. I mean, this place is a pretty good example. Honestly I’m surprised to _not_ be the pizza lackey myself. Since when am I rubbing elbows with superhero types?”

“Since you felled me with a taser in New Mexico,” Thor replied, coming in the door ahead of Steve and striding over to give Darcy an easy hug that Bucky couldn’t help envying. “Darcy, can we talk for a moment?”

Bucky felt his spirits deflate a little as she walked out the door with Thor, but she wasn’t gone long. “Everything okay?” he asked, when she reappeared on her own.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Those two, I swear to god. I mean, I guess Thor _is_ a god, but… honestly. Him and Jane. I wish those crazy kids would just get their shit together. I think they will, now that he lives on Earth, but sometimes I just want to shove their heads together and say ‘kiss and make up now’ like they’re a couple of dolls, you know?”

Natasha gave a sharp exhale that was almost a laugh. “I think Thor might prefer ‘action figure’, no?”

“He is, though,” Darcy replied. “Fuck me, I’m pretty sure there are action figures of most of you people. And you too, soon enough,” she added, before Bucky could say anything.

Steve shook his head and gestured towards the pizza boxes lined up on the counter. “Come on, we should eat while it’s hot. Darcy, please, go ahead.”

She gave him a completely incorrect salute. “Why thank you, Captain I Have The Most Action Figures Of All.”

That was it. Between her comment and Steve’s expression, Bucky couldn’t help himself: he dissolved into laughter, having to cover his face for a second to try and pull himself back together. When he looked up again, a little breathless, Darcy looked like someone had just handed her an award. “I mean, it’s _true_ ,” she added, which just made him fall apart again.

“She’s not wrong, punk,” he told Steve, once he was able to stop wheezing with amusement. “When I was still on the run, trying to find info on you, toys came up in every damn search.”

“At least he doesn’t own any.” Natasha took a slice for herself, then raised an eyebrow. “Unlike Tony.”

Eventually everybody got some pizza, and Bucky picked up Darcy’s still-unopened beer and brought it to her, which gave him an excuse to sit next to her on the couch. She’d tucked herself in right at the far end, as if she was trying to take up as little space as possible, but she seemed to relax a little once everyone had settled in, with Steve and Nat on the other couch and Sam taking the armchair. “Was Thor coming back?” Sam asked.

Darcy shrugged. “Guess it depends if Jane’s more interested in science or him tonight. Given her mood lately I’d say save him some pizza, but hope springs eternal. Now come on, I was promised a movie here.”

Steve flicked the lights off and Sam picked up a remote and started searching up the movie title, scoffing when Nat suggested he just ask FRIDAY to play it. “This is an amazing movie,” Darcy told Bucky quietly, her voice pitched just for him. “But I hope the whole ‘big bad evil army’ thing isn’t too close to home for you. I mean, it’s an ancient magic evil kind of thing, not Hydra, but…”

“It’s okay, doll. Fiction, I can handle. But thank you.”

Leaning in, she bumped her shoulder gently off of his. “Any time.”

The movie started then, and although he gave it his attention there was an ever-present awareness of Darcy being just inches away from him. And when she leaned in to whisper practically into his ear it sent a pleasant shudder down his spine. He’d take what he could get. “Okay, this is really the start of the story,” she told him, as the scene changed to a dark-haired young man sitting under a tree.

“We’ve gotta be fifteen minutes into the movie already,” he replied. “What was all that?”

“Backstory,” she replied.

Steve turned a disapproving glance their way. “Ssh.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Darcy said under her breath, and almost sent Bucky into stitches again. It wasn’t even that funny, but half of it was just that he liked being treated like her partner in crime.

Well into the story, just as the adventurers were fleeing from a monster underground, Sam clicked the pause button. “Come on,” Steve protested. “We’re right in the middle of a scene!”

“I need to take a leak, man. It’s a long damn movie.”

As Sam got up, Bucky felt Darcy give what sounded like a sigh of relief. “I’m glad he paused it,” she said. “There’s, um, a scene coming up and it just occurred to me that I should give you a heads-up because it might be hard for you to watch. I don’t want to spoil the plot, but…”

From the other couch, Steve frowned. “What is it?”

Based on the look on Darcy’s face, Bucky figured she must have forgotten about enhancing hearing. “Um, yeah, I guess I should share with the class, because it might be a trigger for you too, Steve,” she replied. “We’re about to see Gandalf fall into a crevasse and apparently die. I’m normally a very strict ‘no spoilers’ girl, but I don’t want either of you to get blindsided by it in case it hits too close to home.” By the end of the sentence, she’d turned her attention away from Steve to focus on Bucky, her eyes wide in the dim light. “Sorry, I should’ve thought of this before I suggested it.”

“It’s okay,” he told her, as Sam sat back down and resumed the playback. He was touched that she’d even thought to warn him about it. As the scene obviously drew closer, though, he did feel his pulse speed up, his breathing getting shallower: manageable, but it narrowed his focus to staying calm. And when the monster’s whip lashed up and left the wizard clinging to the edge of the cliff, he had to close his eyes - until he felt a hand on his bicep and he whipped around to see Darcy looking at him with concern. It took his attention off the story long enough to miss the worst of it, feeling a strange role reversal as his brain supplied long-past memories of using scary movies as a pretext to have a date cling to him for comfort. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking a deep breath as the scene shifted to something less personal.

“Any time,” she whispered back.

It seemed that he and Steve were the only ones who hadn’t seen the film, because when it ended with absolutely no resolution to the story, nobody else protested. “It’s only part one of a three-part story,” Darcy explained. “I mean, we could fire up the next one now if you want to stay up till three or four in the morning…”

Though her words were dismissive, and everyone else in the room groaned and started making moves to get up and go to bed, there was something else in her expression that made Bucky feel like it might be an actual offer. “Do you?”

“I’m… probably not gonna get much sleep tonight anyhow, with everything that’s going down tomorrow,” Darcy replied, giving a shrug. “And that’s just _me_. I can only imagine how you feel. So… yeah. If you feel like watching it, I’m in.”

Steve chuckled. “You kids have fun. Some of us actually want to get some sleep.” He said goodnight to Sam, who was already starting up the stairs, then turned to Natasha and paused. “Well, uh… goodnight.”

Romanoff laughed, before heading upstairs, while Steve went in the opposite direction. Bucky couldn’t help rolling his eyes at it all.

“What?” Darcy asked, looking around the room as if she was trying to figure out what was going on.

“Steve. Trying to look like he’s Mister Gentleman going back to his own room. Soon as he figures we’re busy watching the movie either he’ll be sneaking up the back stairs or she’ll be coming down. They think nobody knows. They think I don’t _hear_ them,” he added, laughing to himself. He’d clued in about the two of them pretty quickly when they’d shown up in Wakanda, but if they weren’t going to admit it, it wasn’t up to him to push. “Wish I didn’t. This enhanced hearing is a pain sometimes.”

Darcy’s mouth was hanging open a little. “Wait, so… Captain America and the Black Widow, _they’re_ a thing?”

“Yeah. Don’t know what kind of a thing, but…” And then he thought about the way she’d emphasized ‘they’. “Why, did you think somebody else was?”

“I…” She looked a bit like she was correcting a math problem in her head. “I just… in those Hydra files, I saw something about you and her, and…”

Suddenly a whole bunch of things clicked into place: the other night when Darcy had taken off after working on the files, the way she’d startled away from him when they were getting drinks out of the fridge… “Oh, no. No, no, no. That was…” He scrubbed a hand across his face, wondering how to explain it without sending Darcy running for the hills. “That was the Soldier breaking programming, plus the training they gave the Widows in the Red Room,” he said, not able to make himself look her in the eyes. “It was physical, a few days. Sure as hell isn’t something I’m proud of. Not the way I’d ever…”

He was startled out of speech in mid-sentence when Darcy gave him a hug. Just a quick one: she was sitting down again before he even really processed what she’d just done. “It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to… I mean, I kind of got the idea with what I saw in the files, but I wasn’t sure if… you know, when you two met again, if it was that kind of a thing. And I mean, it’s none of my business. But… kind of a relief to know I can hang with you and give you a hug or whatever and I’m not going to wake up to Agent Romanoff slitting my throat while I lay sleeping or something. It’s cool, really. I didn’t mean to pry. Should we start the movie, before it really does get too late for it?”

Darcy started the new film, then got up to get herself another slice of pizza, while he tried not to be too obvious about the fact that he wanted to watch her more than he wanted to watch the screen. He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that she’d thought him and Romanoff were together, or the way she’d reacted on finding that they weren’t. Had it been relief? _Don’t even think it,_ he told himself. _Don’t start imagining this is more than it is._ Natasha’s reputation could scare anyone off from wanting to be his friend, and that was all Darcy was offering, after all. Shaking his head before any wild speculation could set in, he turned his attention back to the movie.

It was a good story, maybe even better than the first part, and soon enough he was engrossed in it, forgetting the late hour. At least until he felt a weight against his right shoulder and realized that Darcy had fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been out, but she didn’t seem to register the fact that she’d slumped over against his side. Bucky froze for several long seconds, wondering whether he should wake her, take her home to sleep properly. “Darcy?”

She didn’t wake, just gave a contented-sounding “mmm” noise and shifted a little more of her weight onto him, leaving him stuck having an argument with himself. _Look how peaceful she is, just let her sleep till the end of the movie. No, you oughta take her home now, don’t take advantage. Maybe just give it a few more minutes? The movie can’t have too much longer anyhow._ After a bunch of debate, he decided to try saying her name once more, just a little louder, but she didn’t budge. Finally, he gingerly shifted his arm out from where she was leaning on it, and draped it across the back of the couch: it was tempting to wrap it round her shoulders, but that definitely felt like a bridge too far. Darcy just draped herself into him a little more, her head tilting back a bit against the crook of his shoulder as he thanked god she’d been sitting on his right side and not his left.

Losing any remaining pretense of watching the movie, he let himself watch her instead, her face softer, unguarded. God, she was beautiful. It was the closest he’d really been to a woman in so long, and he allowed himself the luxury of imagining what it would be like if this was real, if she’d consciously chosen to cozy up to him instead of just doing it by accident. If he had the right to suggest he tuck her into his own bed instead of taking her back to her own. But _that_ line of thinking was liable to get him into a state, which was the absolute last thing he needed while she was practically on top of him. He tried to get back into the movie instead, but between her warm weight against him and the faint smell of her perfume, it was a lost cause.

Just when he was about to give her a gentle nudge, she stirred. “Mmm, hi,” she murmured, still sounding more than half asleep; a moment later, she actually straightened up and blinked at him. “Bucky. God. I’m sorry. I totally fell asleep on you, didn’t I? Fuck. I hope I didn’t drool on you or anything. It’s not a reflection on your company or anything, I was just…”

Seeing that she was getting flustered, he decided to tell a white lie. “It’s okay, I think I dozed off too. Maybe we should try the movie again sometime when it’s not so late?”

Darcy hid an enormous yawn behind one hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”


	21. Chapter 21

Darcy was never going to admit it, but when she’d woken up and realized she’d dozed off and draped herself onto Bucky, she’d kept her eyes closed for a few extra seconds just to absorb the feeling of being that close to him: warm and solid and smelling like clean laundry and just a hint of the beer they’d been drinking earlier. It was probably going to drive her crazy later – just enough fodder to imagine what it would be like to wake up in his bed – but she planned to cherish the tiny memory all the same.

He'd insisted on walking her home, and between the lingering sleepiness and the late hour it all had a sense of surreality. “I feel like I’m… outside of time,” she mused, as they approached her building.

It sounded ridiculous, and she wanted to take it back as soon as the words came out of her mouth, but Bucky looked like he was considering it. “Would be kinda nice sometimes. Can’t say I’m in a rush for whatever tomorrow’s got in store.”

Heading inside, she felt her steps slowing down. “It’d give us time to finish the movie, at least. Maybe even watch part three,” she joked. “See how long it takes for you to get completely sick of me.”

It was a cheap line, and she knew he’d say something nice about not getting tired of her, but the look on his face was so soft and sweet that it could have easily given her all kinds of wrong ideas. “Pretty sure it’d take a lot longer than three movies. Even long ones. But I guess we should both try and get some sleep,” he added, sounding like the idea wasn’t especially appealing.

“I guess.”

As they reached her front door, Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. “Would a hug be okay? I promise it’s none of Romanoff’s business and she will not lay a finger on you.”

Darcy felt her cheeks flushing, and she wasn’t honestly sure how much of it was embarrassment over having misjudged the Natasha situation, and how much was just her body’s automatic reaction to the prospect of getting close to him. “For the record, hugs are always okay,” she replied, already leaning in. His arms went around her and she let herself take another deep breath of the scent of his skin. And then he made a barely audible, pleased kind of noise, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, that just about sent all her restraint out the window. There were about eight thousand things she wanted to do in that moment, from running her hands through his hair to kissing him senseless to dragging him to her bed. But even the most innocent of those were still way over the line, so she stuffed every single urge into the back corners of her brain and stepped back from the hug to unlock her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I wish I could honestly promise that everything will be okay, but I _will_ promise that anything else I can do to smooth the way, I’ll do.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He reeled her back in for another hug – just a fleeting one, but it still sent off a delighted little _squeeee_ in her mind that was totally inappropriate for the turn the conversation had just taken. “You’ve done so much. I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you, but when this is all over, I’ll try. Goodnight, Darcy.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.” With difficulty, she tore herself away. Once she was inside she found the sleepiness catching up again, and opted to just brush her teeth, take off her shoes and bra, and fall into bed still wearing the rest of her clothes. They were practically pajamas anyhow. And if she snuggled up to her spare pillow and pretended it was him: well, nobody needed to know that but her.

The next day was a whirlwind – confirming the final details, waiting for the Wakandan footage to drop, then releasing Bucky’s Hydra past into the wild and monitoring the response. “I feel like we’ve set off an actual bomb,” Darcy mused, in something like her fifth hour of checking and tabulating the tides of social media and news opinions on the subject.

“You kind of did,” Jane replied. After the first hour, when Romanoff had switched her energies to following the news through more covert channels and it had seemed like Bucky was going to lay low for the day, Darcy had moved herself back to the familiar lab. She could work just as easily there. “Are we mentioned anywhere in all of this, by the way?”

Darcy shook her head. “I mean, Thor is, obviously, in the Wakanda files. But you and I, no. We kept your whole ‘find Tony Stark in space’ piece out of it for now. Although with Thor back on the scene, somebody’ll probably drag your name in somewhere.” She looked over at Jane for a second, trying to see if her expression gave anything away. “I notice he never came back for pizza last night. Are you guys good, or what?”

“We’re… getting there,” Jane replied. “Lots to still figure out before I’ll be willing to call it anything. I notice _you_ weren’t back till three in the morning.”

“You waiting up for me, Mom?”

Jane made a face. “I had a lot on my mind after talking to Thor. I couldn’t sleep, and then heard you and Barnes talking outside your door.”

“Sounds like I’d better have words with Tony about the non-sound-proof-ness of the doors around here,” Darcy muttered, turning back to her computer screen to try and hide the fact that she was blushing. “But if you heard us, you’ll know it wasn’t anything.”

“Couldn’t really hear what you were actually _saying_ ,” Jane admitted, though there was a smirk playing around the corners of her mouth. “But if he’s walking you back to your door in the middle of the night, I’d say that’s not nothing.”

“Trust me, it’s just…”

“I mean,” Jane carried on, completely cutting Darcy off. “Walking a girl home was, like, stage one of courtship back in the olden days, right?”

Darcy just barely resisted the dual urges to bang her head against the desk, and to argue about whether or not Bucky’s youth counted as ‘the olden days’, especially considering that Thor was about fifteen times older. “Okay, so it’s a classic case of ‘he sees me as a friend, or maybe a kid sister, and I’m dangerously close to being all the way in love with him’, alright? Does that make you feel better?”

She hadn’t even fully admitted that in her own head to herself, had never really believed in the whole ‘love at something close to first sight’ thing, and certainly hadn’t meant to throw it at Jane like a teenager snapping at a parent, but there it was. The truth. It just hung in the air for a while before Jane responded. “Oh, Darce. No, it doesn’t make me feel better. That sucks.”

“I mean, it’s not the worst thing in the world,” Darcy replied, giving a shrug although she genuinely meant it. “Having a super-hot guy friend who gives really good hugs and lets me recommend movies and books and stuff… that’s pretty sweet, even if I do have to suppress the completely inappropriate urge to climb him like a tree. Honestly, I’m amazed he’s even together enough to _talk_ to people after everything he’s been through, let alone hanging out with me when we only met, like, a week or so ago.”

“Speaking of which, how’s he doing today?” Jane asked. “With all… this.” She came up behind Darcy and gestured at the computer screen, which was displaying the latest Twitter hits on the #wintersoldier hashtag. The mix had been skewing mostly towards ‘shocked but sympathetic’ over the past few hours, but there definitely were some dissenters who were calling for Bucky’s head on a platter with various degrees of literality. Darcy just hoped that none of the latter people would be sitting on whatever kind of panel would inevitably decide his future.

Checking her phone again and seeing no new notifications, Darcy sighed. “I don’t know. I got one text from him first thing this morning saying he didn’t want to be around when we released all the stuff, but that’s it. Makes sense he’d want to stay out of it.” She had actually sent a couple of replies through the day, just wanting to check in, but hadn’t gotten a response. Hopefully he was just sleeping or working out or whatever super-soldier types did to destress – maybe blowing things up – but she’d made a deal with herself that if she didn’t hear from him by the evening, she’d try to track him down.

When she knocked off for a quick sandwich at around six-thirty, there’d still been no word, and sending another quick message to him had no result. After a fair bit of internal debate, she’d just about made up her mind to try texting Steve when she heard Steve's voice down the hall and spotted him coming out of one of the meeting rooms with Tony and Pepper. Darcy hovered till they parted ways and then hustled after him.

Thankfully, he heard her footsteps and turned around, otherwise she might have had to break into a jog to catch up to his long strides. “Miss Lewis.”

Stopping in her tracks, she blinked at him. “Holy shit, dude, I know we don’t know each other really that much at all, but _please_ call me Darcy. Sorry,” she added. “Language.”

Steve laughed, but everything about him looked weary. “It’s okay, Darcy. I’m usually not so uptight. But this has been quite a day.”

“Indeed. On that note… is Bucky okay? I mean, not my business, but he went pretty radio silent. Which is totally his prerogative, because if I had my whole past dumped online, even just _my_ actual past of, like, flashing at Mardi Gras and that one time with… god, sorry.” She reeled herself in and started over. “I mean, it’s a lot. And he seems to be astonishingly well-adjusted considering everything I saw in those files, so I assume he had some kickass therapy in Wakanda or whatever, but… just wanted to make sure that he’s okay. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He smiled at her, and this time it reached his eyes. “I haven’t heard much from him today either. Was thinking about going to have a look for him in another half-hour or so, but if anybody’s going to check up on him, he might appreciate it more from you than me. He gets his nose outta joint when he thinks I’m worrying about him too much,” he added, rolling his eyes ever so slightly.

“But you’re his bestie,” she protested. “I’m just…”

With a raised eyebrow that was suddenly Captain America and not just Steve Rogers, he held up a hand to stop her. “Whatever you and Bucky are, I have a feeling he wouldn’t want you calling yourself ‘just’ anything. If you want to find him, I’d start by the river. He always used to go down and walk around by the water, when we were kids, if he had stuff on his mind.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a sloppy salute that made him frown at her.

“You really should do that properly, if you’re going to do it at all.”

“Well, that is my motto about most things, so I’ll give you that one, Cap,” she replied. “I’ll go see if he feels like company or whatever.”

“You’re good for him, you know.”

Darcy took a look at the expression on Steve’s face, and while on the one hand it felt nice to be approved of by Captain America, on the other hand she had a feeling he was getting way too big an idea about what her and Bucky’s friendship was. And on the _other_ other hand, she could see where his whole protective thing would wear on somebody’s nerves. “I’ll see you later, Steve.”

She finished the last bite of her sandwich, then had a thought and grabbed a couple more sandwiches, some treats and a bottle of water, thankful that she’d brought a messenger bag that morning. If Bucky hadn’t checked in with Steve all day either, who knew if he’d eaten. Then she pulled out the too-tight ponytail that had been bugging her all day, and set out in search of Bucky Barnes.

The couple of benches nearest the river were empty, as was the trail along that side of the property, but between Steve’s suggestion and the general peace of the place, screened in by forest and away from the main buildings, she didn’t give up just yet. Where the running trail curved back on itself, just past the low-slung building of the gun range, she noticed a path of sorts, just an area where the longer grass was trodden down a bit, as if people occasionally went that way. Following it, she came around a few trees and found a little sheltered spot where grass turned to gravel, sloping right into the water. And at the edge of the grass, almost hidden by an overgrown bush, sat Bucky.

“Hey,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Wasn’t sure if you’d gotten a chance to grab any food, so I brought you a couple of sandwiches. I’m happy to hang if you want some company, but if I’m bugging you, I can fuck off.”

At the last couple of words he finally looked up, though she wasn’t foolish enough to think he hadn’t heard her coming. “Did Steve send you?”

“I’ll admit he gave me a tip where I might go looking, but no. I went badgering him to see if you were okay. It’s okay if you’re not, though. You’re allowed.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

She sighed, swallowing down a lump in her throat at the tone of his voice. At least he wasn’t _actually_ telling her to fuck off. “Bucky. I thought we’d settled that question.” Shifting her bag off her shoulder, she sat down on the grass, leaning back against a tree trunk: near him, but not invading his space. “I started being nice to you because I’m nice, to be honest. I continued because _you’re_ nice. And smart and interesting and sweet. And because I wanted to be first on the block to be friends with the smoking-hot new Avenger, remember?” When that didn’t make him crack even a hint of a smile, she regrouped. “I know today is a lot. It sucks. I’m not going to tell you to be okay about it or even that you have to listen to me right now. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel. Just remember you’ve got a lot of people in your corner, okay?”

“I don’t deserve it.”

He shifted a little, and she belatedly noticed that he had his phone in his hand. Or, what was left of a phone. And then it clicked. He’d probably started looking at feeds, searching his name, in the wake of the info dump. It would have been all too easy to focus on the few screaming trolls and the alt-right hack sites, gloss over all the less dramatic but more sympathetic coverage that was out there, and sink down into some kind of horrible rabbit hole. And because they’d all been so careful to take him at his word and leave him to his own devices, he’d been alone with this for _hours_.

“Give me that,” she told him, holding her hand out till he passed her his shattered phone. Then she lobbed it into the river. “Fuck that thing. Look. I’ve been monitoring this all day, and I can probably guess what you saw. And I care about you too much to lie to your face, so yeah, some people are mouthing off, spewing shit about you probably without even reading any of the files that dropped, because if they’d _read_ the files, really read them, they’d know that’s bullshit. Or maybe they do know it’s bullshit and they’re running it anyways to cash in on clicks from their scumbag readers, who knows. But…” She laid a hand on his shoulder, and was relieved when at least he didn’t pull away from her. “But did you look at all the rest of it, like, at all? All the big mainstream news is talking about the Avengers saving the planet and how you’re the world’s longest-term POW and speculating how much military back pay you’re owed and talking about the Barton precedent.”

That finally got his attention. “The what precedent?” He turned to face her, though his eyes kept flicking to hers and then away.

“Clint Barton. One of the OG Avengers, on house arrest since the whole, you know, ‘half the Avengers telling the Sokovia Accords to suck it’ thing.”

“The archer.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She’d figured he had to know the guy, but maybe he wasn’t totally up to speed on Barton’s file. “Thing is, before all that, leading up to the Battle of New York, Barton got mind-controlled by Loki and did some bad shit. Quite a lot of bad shit, all things considered, given that it was a pretty short time before he got snapped out of it. Like, ‘lock him up forever for treason’ level shit. But there was enough proof and testimony and whatever that he hadn’t been acting of his own free will, and he was totally cleared.”

“He assassinate a president?”

Darcy shook her head. “No, admittedly, he did not do that. Although you should probably look up his file sometime. But the thing is, if he wasn’t guilty of what he did after Loki scrambled his brain with the Tesseract, then they can’t hold you guilty of any of the Hydra years either. And this isn’t just me saying it because I want it to be true because I like you. It’s proper legal shit.”

“Anybody tell you you say ‘shit’ a lot?”

“A whole fuckton of people. Starting with my middle school principal, I think. Now can I please make you eat a sandwich, and give you a hug? Not necessarily in that order?”

He didn’t exactly fling his arms open, but at least a little hint of expression came back to his face as he nodded, shifting a bit closer to her on the grass. When she put her arms around him, he seemed to freeze for a moment before remembering what to do, returning the embrace and then surprising her by dropping his forehead down to rest on her shoulder. “Fuck, I hope you’re right, sweetheart.”

“Me too, but I usually am.” She moved her hand, rubbing circles on his back. His broad, impossibly muscular back. _Not the time or place_ , she reminded herself. _Super-soldier in emotional distress here._ “And you’ve got Natasha checking every angle, and Pepper and the whole Stark legal team – which I think you already know is an assload of lawyers – making sure your whole case is as airtight as they can make it. And Steve and Sam and all the rest of them who are going to make sure nobody takes you anywhere you don’t want to go. And, you know, me. Bugging you about movies and shit when you’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

He was still leaning on her. “You do a lot more than that, Darcy.”


	22. Chapter 22

Bucky had had better days. A hell of a lot worse days, for sure, but seeing the reactions to his past being splashed all over the media had left him feeling like he’d been through the wringer. Darcy tracking him down and chucking his busted phone into the Hudson, telling him off and then wrapping her arms around him, though – it wasn’t like she could wave a wand and make it all go away, but she was definitely improving things.

So of course, things got worse.

An ear-splitting noise erupted from Darcy’s bag, putting all his senses on high alert. “What the fuck?” she said, scrambling for her bag. “That is _not_ my ringtone.”

“It’s a security alarm.” As she pulled the phone out, the sound abated, but he could see Steve’s name across the screen. “Pass it here.” She swiped the phone open and handed it over without question. “What’s going on?” he asked.

On the other end, Steve drew a breath in. “Darcy found you, good. The hell happened to _your_ phone?”

“Not the time.”

“True. We’ve got the feds on their way, don’t know if they’re just coming to talk, or what. Gonna show them a united front, whatever it is. Get Darcy somewhere safe and get your ass back here. The hangar.”

Bucky couldn’t hear anything coming in by air yet, but they were coming soon, judging by Steve’s voice. “We’ve gotta move.” Though he could have cleared the distance to the hangar quickly enough at a sprint, there was too little cover once the trees thinned out, and it was no place for Darcy to be. The gun range was close, though, and connected to the other buildings via tunnel. “Follow me.”

To his eternal relief, Darcy didn’t question him, just slung her bag more securely across her body and followed close on his heels. By the time they got to the door of the range, he could hear choppers in the distance. “The feds are on their way,” he explained, leading the way down the stairs. “I need you to go to your room and lock yourself in till this is done.”

“What about you?” She didn’t slow her pace, but he could practically feel her glaring at his back.

“Hopefully they’re coming to talk. Maybe deliver some conditions. Either way, I need you safe. Please, Darcy,” he added, turning to face her as they came to a junction in the tunnel system: one way leading to the hangar and one to the residential buildings. “I don’t have time to argue about it.”

She bit her lip and frowned at him, but nodded. “Don’t you dare let them take you anywhere.”

“Pretty sure Steve’s not planning to let anybody do that. Neither am I.”

“Okay. Good luck.” Then all of a sudden, she grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him – half on the mouth, half on his jaw – and then ran off like there was a fire.

“Jesus.” She was away and around the corner before he fully realized what had happened, but there was no time to think about it further. Turning for the hangar, he broke into a run.

Thor met him at another tunnel junction coming from the main building. “Barnes, do you know where Darcy is?”

Bucky nodded, but neither of them slowed their pace. “Heading back to her room. Told her to lock herself in till this is settled.”

“I told Jane the same, though she was reluctant to leave the labs. She’ll be relieved to know Darcy is safe.”

Refraining from pointing out that given the unknowns of the situation, there were no ironclad guarantees that anyone was safe – since he was pretty sure Thor was well aware of that – Bucky just nodded again. They came up the stairs into the hangar a minute or two later and found everyone else gathered. Steve wore the shield slung over his back, Thor carried his axe, and Sam had his wings within arm’s reach, but apart from that nobody was geared up, everyone in street clothes. “What are we looking at?” Bucky asked, looking beyond them to the open end of the hangar, where he could just make out four choppers approaching from a distance.

“Not sure yet, but from the chatter I picked up, sounds like Ross is on his way,” Natasha replied.

“Well, shit. I can’t hang up on him if he turns up in _person_.” Tony raised his eyebrows when Steve shot him a glare. “What? We can’t lighten the mood a bit?”

Steve just shook his head and gestured for Romanoff to continue. She rolled her eyes at the both of them. “No clear sense of what his agenda is.”

“It was sounding like his job was on shaky ground,” Rhodes replied. “Think he’s trying to play some kind of last stand, make a statement here?”

“Guess we’re about to find out,” Steve replied.

As they formed ranks, Steve moved closer and lowered his voice. “You alright, Buck?”

Bucky made a face. “Peachy. You?”

“You gonna tell me what happened to your phone?”

“Darcy threw it in the river.”

“What?”

Despite the situation, the look on Steve’s face did make Bucky give a half-laugh. “After I’d destroyed it. Read too many people’s opinions on all this and…” He shrugged. “Ross is the one who made you an outlaw and tossed everybody in the Raft. You think he’s leaving here without a fight?”

“He’s not leaving with anybody he didn’t come with, either way.”

The helicopters touched down, and Bucky wasn’t surprised to see black-uniformed, heavily-armed agents spill out of the first three. They formed up and waited, as three people got out of the final chopper. They were in business clothes rather than tactical gear; clearly the brains behind the operation. Two men, one woman.

Bucky recognized the one in the lead. He sure as hell wasn’t the Secretary of State.

“Wrong Ross,” Sam muttered at Bucky’s left side.

“Hey, I didn’t have time to probe for details,” Natasha murmured back.

Thinking back to Germany, Bucky ran over his limited knowledge of the other Ross – Everett Ross. Pilot, CIA, counter-terrorism task force, spent time in Wakanda around the time of T’Challa’s accession to the throne. Shuri had laughingly referred to him as ‘broken white boy number two’. The one who’d put Bucky in a detention cube in Germany and missed catching Zemo’s infiltration of the facility.

What the hell he was doing leading the charge, and whether or not he’d be any better than the Ross they’d expected: those were open questions. Mentally cataloguing the weapons he was carrying – just a knife down his boot and another one at his hip, but better than nothing – Bucky squared his shoulders and braced for a fight.


	23. Chapter 23

Reaching her room, Darcy bolted the door behind her, then sank down on the floor and put her head in her hands. What if they took Bucky away? What if things went sour and he got hurt? What if he had to disappear to Wakanda without warning?

Or – far less awful but definitely cringe-worthy to contemplate – what if this was all a big false alarm and she’d gone and lost her head and _kissed_ the poor guy and thus turned everything awkward and sabotaged their friendship? She’d take that over the alternatives, obviously, but why couldn’t she have just hugged him? “So much for keeping cool in a crisis, Lewis,” she muttered, before a huge bang just about made her jump out of her skin.

A second later, she was able to think past the adrenaline and realize it had been a door slamming. It had to be Jane’s door, across the hall. She pulled her phone out. _Was that you just now?_

Jane replied almost immediately. _Darcy! Thank god. What the hell is going on?_

_Wish I knew,_ Darcy texted back.

_They won’t let anybody take Barnes away, you know. Thor’s got his axe with him, he said he’ll take them all to Vanaheim if he has to._

“How is this my life?” Darcy asked herself, for maybe the millionth time in the past few years. _Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that._ After a minute, she added another text. _I did something stupid._

_How stupid? Like ‘end of the world’ stupid or ‘you’ll be embarrassed’ stupid?_

_The second one,_ Darcy replied. _But like BIG embarrassment. Huge. Like ‘I don’t know how I come back from this’ style._

After a long pause, Jane prompted her. _Which was…?_

_Ugh. I kind of kissed Bucky. When we parted ways just now._

_So?_ Jane texted back, then followed up with, _What’s so bad about that, did you have tuna breath or something?_

Darcy gave a semi-hysterical bark of laughter. _No! For one thing it was quick, closed mouth, I think I almost missed his mouth TBH. But that’s not the point._

_You going to tell me what the point is? Haven’t you been daydreaming about kissing the guy pretty much since he landed here?_

_He’s my FRIEND. I’m not supposed to be entertaining all these dirty thoughts about him, or the romantic ones either. Now I’ve probably blown everything._

_Wait, I thought you said you only kissed him?_ It was accompanied by devil and eggplant emojis.

At that, Darcy dissolved into giggles in earnest, though it still had that out-of-control edge that she knew could turn to tears at the drop of a hat. _I really have corrupted you, Janey. But seriously, how do I fix this?_

There was a bubble with three dots on Jane’s end for a while. _My honest advice? Wait and see if it even needs fixing. Maybe you made his day._

_Oh god. Thanks for the vote of confidence, but seriously, I wish._ Sighing, Darcy hauled herself up off the floor. _Gonna download some trash to watch and try to take my mind off all of it for a while._

Reality TV wasn’t a perfect distraction, but it at least kept her from literally counting the seconds or visualizing assorted horrible things that might or might not be happening at the hangar. Or at least, it worked for the first hour and a half. After that she tried asking FRIDAY for information.

“I’m not cleared to release surveillance footage,” the AI replied.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t be,” Darcy muttered. Probably for the best that she couldn’t actually see what was going on. “Can you tell me if Sergeant Barnes is still on the compound?”

“No one has left the compound in the past two hours.”

“The feds haven’t left either?”

“That is correct.”

Darcy frowned. With her stomach forming into a knot, she changed her mind at least three times before forging ahead with one more question. “Has anyone been injured?”

“I have no record of any injuries.”

“Thanks, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Darcy.”

Darcy flopped back down onto her bed, then got up again and paced for a while, then flopped down again, this time on her face. Also right on top of her phone, which just about scared the life out of her when a text notification sounded. Scrambling for it, she wondered for a second if it could be Bucky, before remembering that he’d crushed his phone and it was now somewhere on the bottom of the river. Probably Jane, then.

Not Jane: Steve. _Just wanted to let you know the situation’s under control. More things to deal with here, will be a while._

_Thanks, Steve._ She left it at that, though she had a million questions; he didn’t respond again. Presumably if things were calm enough for Captain America to take a second and send her a text, it wasn’t a battle and nobody was trying to stuff a bag over Bucky’s head and take him to an undisclosed location.

Which meant that she was just the fool who’d overreacted, kissed her friend in a momentary lapse of reason, and probably completely creeped him out. Maybe she could play it off as temporary insanity and a misjudged attempt to kiss his cheek. Not that anyone usually grabbed somebody by the shirtfront to kiss their cheek. God, she’d totally grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt, hadn’t she?

“Fuck.” She hissed it on a long exhale, and wondered just how the hell she’d gotten so hung up on a guy. Smitten, even. It wasn’t usually her style.

Granted, Bucky wasn’t exactly the usual kind of guy.

Fuck, she hoped she hadn’t screwed everything up.

Only way to find out was wait.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter day! I posted Chapter 23 earlier today, so do make sure you're caught up on that first.

By the time everything was wrapping up – at least four hours after the initial alert had sounded – Bucky’s head was pounding from the ebb of the unused adrenaline. And, he realized, the fact that he hadn’t eaten since about eight in the morning and it was approaching midnight. Not to mention the mindfuck of Darcy kissing him in the tunnel; there had been too much to deal with to allow himself to think too hard on that, but it was coming back to top of mind now.

“Right,” Ross said, standing up and drawing Bucky’s attention back to the head of the table. “So we have your agreement in principle to the draft amendments to the Accords.”

“If and when Barnes is cleared to join the team.” Bucky had expected Steve to bring it up for probably the fifteenth time, but it was actually Stark who pushed his chair back and said it this time, with a pointed look at Ross and his entourage.

“A united front,” Ross replied, with a hint of a smile that looked fairly genuine. “Look, I get it. I’ve had… some experience in Wakanda. If Shuri says that Hydra’s out of his brain, that’s good enough for me. But you know I don’t have the latitude to just put his name on the paperwork right now, without a full hearing. There’s support in high places, though. It should just be more or less a formality.”

“High places like the Secretary of State’s office?” Steve asked, one eyebrow looking like it was about to clear his skull and enter the atmosphere.

Ross took a breath. “Let’s say… there are developments coming on that front. You know I can’t give you a guarantee or put anything in writing, but I don’t see this as a significant problem. Particularly given the outspoken support of the Wakandan government.”

The woman who’d come with Ross stood up as well. Everyone else seemed to know her; Bucky was going to have to get his hands on her file. Maria Hill. Supposed to be their go-between with the new SHIELD and the rest of the government – one of the compromises in getting Steve and the rest off the wanted list. “We really don’t need to be here with the cavalry for this any longer. Steve, Tony… you know where to find me. I’ll be in touch when the next steps are in place, in the next day or two.”

Finally it was over, at least for the moment. They spilled out into the nearest lounge after Hill and Ross and the rest of them left, and Bucky could tell that everybody was liable to sit there further into the night, talking it all over about fifty more times. He only stayed long enough to inhale a bagel, a chocolate bar, and a glass of water that he refilled and drained three times. After that, he needed to figure out what the hell was happening with Darcy.

Heading across the compound, he cursed himself for ruining his phone. Midnight was no kind of time to be banging on a girl’s door, but he had to see her, had to at least let her know what was up, even if there wasn’t going to be an answer to why she’d kissed him. Probably the adrenaline, he figured. Still, he wished he could do it over, fix it more clearly in his mind. Given the way he’d been stuck on the idea of kissing Darcy pretty much since he’d first seen her, he sure as hell wished he’d actually _reacted_ instead of freezing up in momentary shock.

It was silent inside her building, the lights out in the common area as he made his way to her door and took a deep breath before giving a light knock. There was a soft sound of movement inside, and a pause: she must be checking to see who was outside first before opening. That was good, exactly what she should be doing, but a tiny, treacherous corner of his mind wondered if she would open up once she knew who was standing there.

But she flung the door open. “Bucky! Thank god. Fuck. Are you okay? What was all that about?”

It felt like a stupid thing to be thinking, given that it had only been a few hours, but she was a sight for sore eyes after the weird roller-coaster the evening had turned into. Darcy was in a baggy oversized shirt with a pair of shorts just barely peeking out underneath, her face was bare and her hair was loose and messy like she’d been sleeping, or maybe trying to, and everything about her just looked so _soft_. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was a way bigger wind-up than it needed to be.” And then he wondered what he was doing there, standing awkwardly in her doorway in the middle of the night. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you up, just… without my phone…”

Darcy waved a hand. “No, no, fuck that, no apologies needed. I know Steve said things were okay but it wasn’t like I was gonna get any sleep till I heard it from you anyhow.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “I mean, I know today has been a lot. It was a fucking lot already before whatever just went down tonight. So if you need to crash or whatever…” When he shook his head, she continued. “I don’t know, midnight snack? I’ve got more brownies in the freezer, or I can make some grilled cheese or something. Did you eat at all today?”

She seemed jittery, almost like the first time they’d spoken, that day when she’d first brought her baking over. Clearly they were going to have to have some kind of a conversation about that kiss, but was it that she regretted it, or that she was embarrassed, or that she’d just been scared and not thinking straight? One way or the other, it was probably better to sit down for it, and it wasn’t like he expected her to invite him into her room. “I grabbed something just now, but I’d never say no to one of your brownies.”

That was the right thing to say, at least: Darcy brightened up and gestured towards the common room, following along behind him in her pajamas without bothering to grab a robe or change into actual clothes. “Seems like we’re on a roll with this middle-of-the-night thing,” he joked.

“Hey, I work with an astrophysicist. This is, like, prime time.” Opening the freezer, she pulled out a container. “These are actually awesome straight out of the freezer. Do you want something to drink?” She turned around with a couple of soda cans in one hand and passed one over without waiting for a response, then took a seat sideways on the couch, tucking one foot under herself. “I’ve got to tell you, I was scared shitless they were going to throw you in one of those helicopters and I’d never see you again.”

Her tone sounded like she might be trying to be light about it, but it wasn’t quite working, and she wasn’t quite meeting his eye. He almost asked the question then and there – the _is that why you kissed me_ question – but he knew she deserved an explanation of what the hell had actually happened the last few hours before they tore the lid off the other subject. “Wasn’t totally sure myself,” he replied, sitting down beside her before he could second-guess too much about how close to sit. “Somebody comes in like that, you don’t necessarily assume they’re going to sit down for a meeting. I guess they didn’t necessarily think we were gonna be reasonable either.” Cracking open his drink, he took a sip and began to explain it all: the revised Sokovia Accords, the promises made about wiping the slate clean for Steve and the rest of them, and the rather more complicated issue of getting his own name cleared. “Ross said things are changing – wouldn’t say so outright but I’d bet the Secretary of State is handing in his resignation, among other things – and that it should be a formality, but they’ve got to hold hearings.”

Darcy frowned. “If it’s a formality, why can’t they just get you to sign the Accords like everybody else? That’d already bind you to, you know, help the world and not be a super-villain and shit, right?”

“You know why. I killed Kennedy. I killed Howard and Maria Stark, and a laundry list of other people the US government isn’t inclined to just forget about.”

“Hydra killed them, not you.”

God, he could warm himself forever by that fire in her eyes. “I know. Well, most of the time I do. But if nothing else they’re entitled to make sure their minds are at ease about the Soldier being out of my head. I just… hope it’s enough for them.”

“When? I mean, when are these hearings going to be? They’re not just going to show up again with no warning and haul you off to DC, are they?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, pretty sure they won’t do that. Think today was to make sure we were all going to play nice so they don’t have to.” With a huff of breath, he pulled up his left pant leg to show her the cuff around his ankle. “A little insurance on their part.”

“What the fuck?” She kept looking from the cuff to his face till he let the fabric fall to cover it again. “They’re making you a prisoner now?”

“It’s not like I’d be going anywhere off the compound anyhow, with or without this on me, till it’s all settled. It’s not a big deal.”

Darcy bit her lip and shook her head. “I heartily fucking disagree, but whatever. So when is it? The hearing?”

“Soon. They’re going to try and line it up to get things started in a week or two. Didn’t think anything in government ever moved that fast, but I guess when they all put their foot down – even Stark – and said they weren’t signing anything without me on the team…” Still in some disbelief that _that_ had actually happened, he shrugged and trailed off.

“Fucking right they’d better not sign anything without you,” Darcy replied. “But remind me to make more cookies for Tony. So now it’s just… get shit in order for these hearings?” When he nodded, she nodded too. “Fuck, what a day.”

A silence opened up, and Bucky could feel the atmosphere changing as Darcy picked at a hangnail, her gaze averted. “I’m sorry,” she said eventually. “I know I made things weird today. I mean, I was kind of freaking out, but that was over the line. When I, you know…”

“No, Darcy, it’s not – you didn’t.” If she regretted it, he sure as hell didn’t want to leave her feeling any worse about it than she had to. “I just didn’t expect…”

She cut him off, waving a hand. “I mean, I know you don’t want…”

_What?_ Bucky held his breath, waiting for her to finish that sentence, but she just bit her lip and shook her head, still worrying at her fingernails. She knew he didn’t want what – the kiss? _Her?_ Jesus. The gears in his head were suddenly whirring in overdrive, re-analyzing every interaction they’d ever had. “Darcy,” he said finally – wanting to touch her, take her hand, but not willing to gamble quite that far in case he had this wrong. “If… If you want to forget that couple of seconds in the tunnel ever happened, if you want to erase it, I’ll never mention it again. But if it’s because you think I didn’t… that I wouldn’t _want_ …”

Darcy finally looked up at him, disbelief written across her face. “Wait, what?”

Everything else he’d ever faced down in his life: he could do this. Taking another breath, he went all the way out on the limb. “I might’ve been a little shocked, but don’t ever think I wouldn’t _want_ you to kiss me.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the slow burn finally starts to simmer. Not boiling yet, though...

She had to be dreaming. Bucky coming out and saying he _wanted_ her to kiss him like an idiot in the hallway? Darcy actually slid her fingers down from the hangnail she’d been picking at, and surreptitiously pinched the inside of her wrist. Nope, definitely awake. And Bucky was just sitting there, waiting for her reaction, those unfairly pretty blue eyes of his fixed on her. _Oh god_ , she thought, _was Jane actually right? Am I going to have to tell her she was right?_ “Are you being serious right now?”

Bucky flicked the tip of his tongue across his lower lip, looking like it was a reflex and not a calculated move, but goddamn, it just about killed her. “Like I said,” he replied. “If I’m getting this wrong, we can go back and act like nothing ever happened. And I was never going to say anything because I didn’t think you’d…” He tilted his head down a little, but flicked his gaze right back up to meet hers. “But yeah. Dead serious.”

And then he put his right hand over her left, where it lay on her knee, and traced a little circle with his thumb, and her brain just about short-circuited – only to jolt back to life when he spoke again, his voice quieter, only just above a whisper. “Darcy. Can I kiss you?”

_Hell yes. A thousand times, yes. You can do whatever the fuck you want._ It all flitted across her brain before she managed to articulate an equally hushed “Yeah.”

“’Bout seventy years out of practice,” he added, leaning in ever so slowly. Before she could react to that statement, he closed the rest of the distance and yeah, this was really happening. Slow and sweet and soft, his lips just barely parted as they brushed against hers, coming back for another taste, and another, before he sat back a little, a question in his eyes.

Darcy pressed her lips together as a reflex, like she could capture the memory of what had just happened, imprint his kiss there. “If that’s out of practice, I think the full Bucky Barnes experience should probably be registered as a lethal weapon. I might not survive it, but what a way to go.”

And dear god, who knew the former Winter Soldier could actually be made to _blush_? But there was a distinct flush on his cheeks as he gave a breathy laugh and scraped his teeth over his lower lip. “Is that your way of saying I can kiss you again sometime?”

“That’s my way of saying you can kiss me again _all_ the time.” Her brain was still catching up to this improbable new reality that included making out with Bucky Barnes, but her body was definitely already on board. In fact, given the way he was looking at her, she was about two seconds away from _literally_ getting on board in the form of pushing him against the couch cushions and climbing onto his lap – until he tensed up. “Bucky?”

“We’ve got company,” he said softly, before leaning to the side to look over her shoulder. “It’s not a peep show,” he added, in a louder tone.

Darcy turned around to see Thor standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face. She knew the God of Thunder was _not_ particularly stealthy, so she had a feeling he probably hadn’t been there long or seen very much, but still. “For fuck’s sake, Thor Odinson. Don’t you have an astrophysicist to win back or something?”

Thor chuckled. “It wasn’t my intent to disturb anything. Just wanted to let Jane know what happened this evening.”

“Well, you go do that,” she replied, making a shooing motion. “Don’t make me get my taser!”

Laughing outright now, Thor made a move towards the hallway. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Yeah, keep walking, big man.” Darcy rolled her eyes, knowing the moment was probably ruined now, but taking some consolation in the fact that Bucky’s shoulders were shaking with amusement. “And I guess you’d better tell Jane she was right.”

“I do like being the bearer of good tidings!” Thor called back from around the corner, before they heard the muffled sound of him knocking on Jane’s door, followed by quiet.

“Think he’ll be back out?” Bucky asked.

“Hmm. Middle of the night, after a scary semi-lockdown situation? Not before morning, I’m guessing,” she replied. “He’s already pretty much won her back, to be honest.”

“What’d you mean about Jane being right?”

Sometimes she had to curse her lack of filter. “I… we were texting while we were waiting to figure out what the hell was going on, and I kind of told her I’d kissed you. I was freaking out. And she… kinda suggested maybe I should relax. That maybe you, uh, didn’t mind.”

“Smart lady.” Tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, he tilted his head, his eyes roaming over her face. “I really didn’t think this was where tonight was going to wind up.”

“Me either.” And then she couldn’t resist any longer; shifting closer, she initiated the kiss this time, letting her hands wind up into his hair at the back of his neck. His hair was just as soft as it looked, but his mouth was even softer, a little more open than before. Darcy ran her tongue across his lower lip, loving the little sigh he gave – and then Bucky took over the kiss, his arms tightening around her as he slid his tongue against hers. He was absolutely fucking delicious, and not just because of the lingering taste of chocolate from the brownies he’d eaten. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like this, like it was an event in itself. It seemed like he was content not to go further, and his hands were still in perfectly respectful places when he eventually pulled back a little to nuzzle at her cheek.

“God, sweetheart. Feel like I’m doing this all wrong.”

Darcy laughed in something like disbelief. “Um, I beg to differ.”

“Mmm.” Bucky ran his thumb – the flesh-and-blood one – over her lower lip as he sat back a bit further. “I feel like I’m cheating. Like I skipped some steps,” he amended, when she frowned for a second. “I mean I should be asking you for a date… taking you out somewhere properly, not just jumping ahead to the goodnight kiss. Not like I can even offer you a real date,” he added.

“First of all, not your fault that your social outing options are kinda limited right now,” she pointed out. “Second: what would you have done on a date back in the day, go to a movie? We’ve watched movies together.”

“Those weren’t dates, doll.”

She laughed. “Well, obviously. Those were just chances for me to covertly drool over how hot you are.”

Made him blush again: score. “Darcy…”

God, his voice was sexy; she could imagine him sounding like that in bed. And then it hit her that it seemed like she might actually be on her way to _getting him into bed_ and she had to bite her lip to keep from making an undignified noise. “And I’m not hung up on rules,” she added. “Like… this doesn’t have to be a ‘goodnight’ kiss.” She was slowly leaning in as she spoke, and she finished the sentence by claiming his mouth again.

Bucky’s metal hand splayed out against her lower back, and he returned the kiss in kind, but after a few moments he pulled back. “I think it should be, tonight. Not that… not that I don’t want…”

“It’s okay,” she replied. “It’s late, and it’s been crazy.”

“Not just that.” He got to his feet, gently pulling her up with him and starting to slowly back towards the hallway and her room. “I don’t… I never expected this. Never thought you’d…” Shaking his head, he brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Don’t want to rush anything.”

_What if I want to rush?_ The thought flitted across her mind, but at least for the moment, Bucky did have a point. She’d been up for at least eighteen hours and it had been an absurd day from start to finish. Not to mention everything that must be on his mind about the hearings and the future in general. And - a little voice in the back of her head whispered - maybe it was only fair to give him a chance to rethink all this in the light of day. The thought began to snowball: had she inadvertently taken advantage of him at an incredibly fucked-up time? Was he going to wake up the next day and wonder what the hell he’d been thinking? “Okay.”

At that, Bucky furrowed his brow and shifted his weight to lean against the wall by her doorway. “Darcy, I know things move faster these days, but don’t think for a second that I don’t want… more.” He was speaking quietly, his voice pitched for her ears only.

She searched his face and only saw truth – and the negative snowball melted a little. “So… this isn’t a brushoff, but more of a ‘to be continued’?”

His reply was to kiss her again, a little deeper, a little more searching than before. Kissing him standing up was apparently a dangerous proposition; she truly did feel a little weak in the knees. “Sweetheart, anybody who’d brush you off needs his head examined. Definitely to be continued.” Then another kiss, and she could feel the low noise he made in the back of his throat as she shifted her body closer to his. He pulled her tighter for a moment, then pulled back and brushed a light kiss across her forehead. “I’d better say goodnight, doll.”

Reluctantly, she put her hand to the reader to unlock her door, then went up on her tiptoes to kiss him once more. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

With an audible sigh, and a wide, sweet smile, he backed away down the hall, only turning around once he was out the door and heading off into the night.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, in which Sam is a good bro.

With his heart going approximately twice as fast as usual, Bucky left Darcy’s building and headed towards his own, wanting to reach the privacy of his own room before he ran into anybody.

Which of course meant that he just about smacked straight into Steve in the hallway. “You okay, Buck?” he asked, with a mix of confusion and concern on his face.

Was it better to just let Steve believe that he’d been out brooding by the river again? As he was debating it, he heard Natasha’s voice behind him. “Pretty sure he’s just fine.” She raised an eyebrow, then headed for the stairs. “Night, Barnes.”

Steve’s eyes followed her – and clearly it had been a long day for everyone, because he normally would have made a better effort at not making it obvious that his gaze was lingering on her backside – before he turned his attention back to Bucky. “What’s she talking about?”

Bucky knew better than to ask himself whether Romanoff actually knew where he’d just been or if she’d just been reading his micro-expressions or fishing on an educated guess. And rather than answering Steve’s question directly, he asked one of his own. “If you wanted to ask a girl on a date without being able to leave this compound, what would you do?”

“Darcy?”

“Obviously, punk.”

He could see Steve’s impulse to break into proud-father mode warring with his desire to get the conversation over with in order to follow Natasha upstairs, and thankfully the latter seemed to win out. After thinking for a second, Steve pointed towards the ceiling. “Been up on the roof? It’s basic, but not bad if you wanted to set up a little picnic dinner or something. Rustle up a table and a couple of chairs, maybe a radio for some music…” Steve shrugged. “It’s no Coney Island, but it’d be private, anyhow.”

Private. Private sounded good. “Good idea. Thanks. I’m gonna turn in.”

“Night, Buck.”

Bucky unlocked his room, let himself in, and heard Steve’s footsteps going up the stairs a moment later – leaving him amused, but a little envious as well. Steve and Natasha, Thor and Dr. Foster… maybe he should have taken Darcy at her word? _This doesn’t have to be a ‘goodnight’ kiss._ But no: he wanted to do things right, despite the part of him that very much wanted to walk straight back to Darcy’s door and see if they could pick up where they’d left off.

He could imagine it, though, and felt at least a little less guilty about doing so than the previous few times he’d let his mind wander in the same direction. God, the mere idea that Darcy wanted him – he didn’t know exactly how far she might have wanted to take things if they hadn’t said goodnight when they did, but even the thought of kissing her more… He’d been hard earlier, had had to be careful to angle his hips away when she’d gotten up close outside her door so he didn’t seem like a complete cad, and he was hard again just thinking about what they might have done next. Laying down on his bed and unfastening his pants, he wrapped his hand round his cock, picturing how it would feel to have her whole body pressed up against his, what it would have been like to sneak a hand under the pajama top she’d been wearing, or down to cup the curve of her ass. Tame stuff, really, compared to some of the other fantasies he’d entertained, but the new thread of possibility, the idea that he could have been doing these things that very night – that maybe she’d wanted him to – it got him there in no time.

The next thing he knew, someone was knocking at his door and sunlight was in his face; he must have dropped straight off to sleep before even cleaning himself up or getting changed. “Fuck. Just a second,” he called, making a face as he pulled off the previous days’ dirty clothes and headed to the bathroom to splash a little water on his face. “FRIDAY, who’s at the door?”

Half of him hoped it was Darcy, and the other half didn’t want her to see him looking like a sweaty, unwashed mess. It turned out the question was moot. “It’s Sam Wilson.”

“Alright.” He grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and threw them on before opening the door. “There better not be more feds here.”

Sam laughed. “Nah. Just thought with everything that went down yesterday, you might want to air some of it out. Feel like a run, before anything else lands in our laps?”

It was probably a good idea. “Yeah, hang on.”

“So how’re you doing?” Sam asked, as they fell into an easy jog on the trail.

“It’s a little surreal. Not sure whether to be happy or terrified,” Bucky added, trying to be honest.

“Happy’s good. So you’re feeling like you can get the hearings over with and start getting on with your life?”

Bucky gave a half-laugh. “Shit, the hearings.” It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about them – not for a second – but he supposed it said something that those hadn’t exactly been top of mind.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell Wilson was grinning at him. “Are you gonna tell me that Ross’s little visit _wasn’t_ the biggest thing that happened last night?”

And so he told Wilson about Darcy. Not the details, obviously, but the general shape of things, up to and including Steve’s suggestion about the rooftop. And then some of the doubts started tumbling out of his mouth, ones he hadn’t even really acknowledged in his head yet. “I don’t even know if I’m still gonna be allowed in the country after those hearings, not for sure. Should I even be dragging her into all this? Even if it all works out and I get cleared, there’s nothing normal about any of this.”

They ran a few yards in silence, but he knew Sam was thinking about what he’d said. “Thing is,” he replied eventually, “connecting with somebody, it doesn’t exactly always happen at the convenient time. And as for whether or not you ‘should’ be bringing Darcy into your life, I’d say let her make that call before you get too far up in your own head about it.”

Bucky grunted, acknowledging what had been said but only about halfway to agreeing with it. “It’s dangerous. If anybody knew she meant something to me, it’d put a target on her back. She’s a civilian. Hell, _I’m_ dangerous. What if I… had a flashback, a nightmare or something, and hurt her?”

Another pause. “First of all, this is sounding like you’re in deeper than just asking the girl to a candlelight dinner on the roof. You don’t have to confirm or deny, it’s not my business,” he added, before Bucky could say anything. “Just something to be honest with yourself about, man. Second of all: like I said, this sounds like something you and her need to figure out. But more importantly – don’t forget, she may be officially a civilian, but she left ‘normal’ behind around the time she tased Thor’s ass in New Mexico and SHIELD got up in Doctor Foster’s business. And the last thing. You get those often? Flashbacks?”

“Real flashbacks… not often. Had them more when I was first on the run. Once Shuri got the programming out of my head, and hooked me up with somebody to talk to, it got better.”

“Had any since the whole Thanos extravaganza?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not yet. Doesn’t mean I won’t. Nightmares, though… still get those. Sometimes thrash around, wind up on the floor or standing up somewhere out of bed. Broke a couple of things once or twice.”

“Yeah, Steve mentioned he was just about one of them. There’s stuff you can do, to keep working on that. The nightmares, I mean,” Sam countered. “I’ve known some vets who’ve dealt with it. Including some who sleep better with their partner than alone.”

“Darcy’s not my…”

“You’re talking like you want her to be,” Sam pointed out. “And if that’s true, maybe start by not writing the whole thing off just because of what _might_ happen, alright?”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unadulterated fluff ahead!

Darcy wasn’t sure what to expect the next day. She spent the morning trying to keep her mind on work – mostly for Jane, but Tony had called her in for a while so that he could ramble on about security and ask her the occasional question while he welded something at his workbench. Meanwhile, internally she was bouncing between extremes: dreamily reliving those late-night kisses one minute, deciding he must be regretting it the next. She knew that Bucky still had to replace his phone, and that there must be a million things he had to do with the hearings looming, but the more times she reminded herself, the more agitated she felt about the whole thing.

It wasn’t like her, to get this tied up in knots, especially not about someone she’d only known for a couple of weeks. She generally had a pretty good idea of who was in her league, granted – and she was all too aware that James Buchanan Barnes was well beyond it – but usually if she set her sights on somebody, she got them, and if things didn’t gel after that, she let them go.

She really, really didn’t want to let Bucky go. But nerves were urging her to cushion herself just in case, and so with each hour that elapsed, she played out more scenarios, more ways he might pull back, might tell her that this had all been a crazy mistake. By a quarter past one, she’d gotten so deep down the mental rabbit hole that she truly didn’t know what to do with herself when the lab door opened and he stepped in, hovering just a step over the threshold like somebody might kick him out.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked. His voice was hushed, like he was in a library.

Darcy glanced over to Jane, who had her face glued to some kind of viewfinder and didn’t seem to have even registered the fact that someone had walked in. “Sure.” Her first couple of steps towards him were tentative, but the smile on his face as she got closer eased her nerves a little. When he stepped out the door, she followed him into the hallway.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, seeming like he was verifying that nobody was around, then flicked his tongue over his lower lip. His eyes were roaming all over her face, and it sent a jolt through her to realize that maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling a little nervous. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied. Having his attention so focused on her felt a little like staring directly into the sun, but she couldn’t make herself turn away.

“I know you’re working, and I’ve got to meet with Ms. Potts and I don’t even know who else in a couple of minutes, but…” He took a deep breath, and there was a soft metallic whirring noise from his left arm, though it was mostly covered up by his sleeve. “Was wondering if you might want to have dinner with me later.”

“Like a date?” To be honest, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually asked her out on a proper date; her past romantic life had mostly been a mix of casual flings and partners she’d gotten to know through hanging out in groups of friends. And there hadn’t even been much of that in the last few years.

Bucky’s smile got a little wider. “Like a date, yeah. Or as much of one as I can manage without being able to take you out anywhere that’s not here. Is seven-thirty okay? I mean, if you don’t have work, or anything…”

She took a split-second to try and imagine what kind of calendar commitment could possibly induce her to say no to his offer, and couldn’t come up with a damn thing. Especially not when he was standing in front of her looking a little jittery, in a way that was utterly at odds with both his reputation and his unfair level of hotness. Resisting the impulse to pinch herself again, she beamed at him. “Seven-thirty would be awesome.”

“Perfect.” He dug his teeth into his lower lip for a moment, and Darcy wondered if he had the slightest idea of the unholy kinds of things _that_ did to her. “Stark’s supposed to have a new phone for me this afternoon, so if anything comes up, just text me. Otherwise I’ll pick you up then.”

Just as Darcy was about to open her mouth to ask where they were going to go, she heard Jane’s voice calling her from inside the lab, in the confused sort of tone that meant she hadn’t really noticed Darcy leaving. “Ugh, work beckons.”

Bucky gave her a grin that was soft and sweet and made her want to pull him into the nearest empty room and do wicked, wicked things to him. “Me too. But I’m glad I caught you. See you later?”

“Definitely.”

With an audible intake of breath, he moved a little closer, his right hand coming up to cup her jaw before he leaned down and kissed her. Just a quick press of his mouth to hers – the softness of his lips contrasting with the little scratch of the stubble on his face – but it felt like it was full of promise. “Is it seven-thirty yet?” she sighed.

“Wish it was, doll,” he replied, his blue eyes alight. “I’ll see you soon.”

Several hours later, she had the highlights of her somewhat limited wardrobe spread out on her bed and a decision to make. She had a bunch of casual clothes and a handful of actual work things and not a whole lot in between, certainly not many options that screamed ‘date outfit’, especially not ‘date outfit when your date is an absurdly hot hundred-year-old super-soldier who doesn’t realize how out of your league he actually is’. On reflection, Darcy decided that that was a pretty small niche that nobody could reasonably be expected to design clothes for, and picked up a fairly new dress that she’d ordered on a whim and hadn’t had a chance to wear anywhere yet, apart from modeling it for Jane back in Norway. Navy blue with a constellation print, a swingy skirt, and a mesh neckline: it toed the line of flattering her boobs without looking like she was trying to literally flash them, and felt a little retro. With that settled, she put in her contacts, fixed her makeup, and was just slipping her feet into a pair of ballet flats when she heard a knock at her door and looked to see that it was seven-thirty on the dot.

Bucky stood there in a pair of jeans and a _very_ fitted black tee, pushing his hair back off his face with one hand and holding a fistful of flowers in the other. “Hi.” His voice was soft and his eyes were huge and it hit her that god, he was _nervous_.

“Hi. Oh my god, flowers, you really mean business. I didn’t think people actually… I mean, nobody’s ever done that for me…” _You’re babbling. Deep breaths, Lewis._ “Kinda thought this only happened in the movies. Um, hang on, let me see if I’ve got anything to put them in. Don’t mind all the clothes on the bed!” Scrambling around, she found a pint glass she’d grabbed out of the communal kitchen, refilled it with water and popped the flowers in, before returning to where he stood motionless in the doorway. “Okay. Hi, for real.”

The way he was looking at her, she was sorely tempted to just fall into bed with him – pile of clothes or no pile of clothes. “You look beautiful.”

“You are looking awfully damn fine yourself, Sarge,” she replied. He’d shaved, which just made it all the more apparent that you could probably cut yourself on his cheekbones. And she was used to seeing him either in looser clothing, or his tactical gear; between the short sleeves showing off the metal arm and the almost obscene stretch of the shirt over his chest and shoulders, the whole look was doing unholy things to her state of mind and he’d only been in front of her for a minute and a half. “Jesus. So where are we going?”

He pointed up. “Hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but… the roof. Thought we’d have a little picnic, and there aren’t too many quiet spots around here.”

“This roof?”

“Yeah. I, uh… figured if we used the roof of my building, Steve’d probably be sitting around like a mother hen, curious about how long we’re up there.”

He was still just standing on her doorstep, so she reached out and took his hand – making a point of grabbing the left one. The unyielding metal felt a little odd, but moved just like a normal hand as he threaded his fingers with hers and stepped back so she could close and lock her door. “I’ve gotta say,” she told him, as he held the stairwell door open for her, “it’s a good thing Jane’s going to be in the lab most of tonight, or honestly she might not be much better.” Thinking of Steve made something click in her head, though. “Can I ask… did you borrow that shirt from Steve?”

Ducking his head, Bucky laughed, sounding a little self-conscious. “Yeah. I don’t have much to work with. But I don’t think the punk has really realized that he’s a few sizes bigger than he used to be.”

“I don’t know. I would fully support you wearing that size all the time. And I don’t think _you_ have really realized how fucking hot you are.”

“Doll…” He stopped a step below her, shaking his head in something that looked like disbelief.

Being one step higher meant she could just about look him in the eye, and she realized she should take full advantage. “C’mere,” she said, tugging him a little closer with their linked hands and sliding her other hand round the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He came willingly, a little more heat mixed into the sweetness of the kiss this time, and they were both half-breathless when they broke apart. “This is already the best date I’ve had in a long goddamn time.”

“Hasn’t even started yet.” Bucky kissed her once more, on the forehead this time, then continued leading her up the stairs, past the second-floor doorway and onwards to the exit to the roof, where Darcy hadn’t yet ventured. When the door opened, she realized she’d been missing out: rather than the basic gravel and tarmac she might have expected, it was a green roof, mostly covered in low mossy plants and a few flowers, with a walkway leading across it and an area of wooden deck at the centre. And on the deck, Bucky had set up a blanket, several cushions that she was pretty sure he’d liberated from the common room in his building, an honest-to-god picnic basket, and a bunch of stout pillar candles, already lit. “Is this okay?”

“Oh my god.” She drew the last word out as she looked around. It was the sort of sweet, thoughtful, full-out romantic thing that she’d never thought she was into – but maybe that had just been because nobody had ever done anything like this for her before. “I… wow. For a guy who said less than twenty-four hours ago that he couldn’t offer me a real date… I beg to fucking differ. This has got to be the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me.”

Bucky shifted to stand in front of her, both hands coming up to cradle her face. “Seems like the men in your life haven’t known how lucky they were, then.” He kissed her, but just the once, before he bent down and arranged some of the pillows for her to sit on. “We’d better eat, before I get tempted to forget all about dinner.”

His comment about the _men_ in her life bounced around in her head a couple of times. “Bucky, there’s something about me you should know.” She took a breath as he sat down close beside her. “It hasn’t been just men in my life. I mean, it’s mostly been men, but I’m bi. I’ve, uh… been with women too.”

“Okay.”

She blinked at him. “Okay?”

“It’s part of your life.” He shrugged. “And god, given what you know about _my_ life…” Frowning a little, he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “How did you expect me to react?”

“I don’t know. Some people freak out and assume I’m going to cheat. Guys tend to hope I’ll fulfill some kind of threesome fantasy for them, and some women are put off that I like men too.” It was her turn to shrug. “I’ve learned that it’s best to put that card on the table early.”

“I would’ve thought people would be smarter these days, now that things are so much more open. Sure as hell doesn’t change how I feel about you. Now come on, sweetheart, we should eat,” he added, dispelling a little of the tension that had been hanging in the air.

She watched as he pulled things out of the basket: a couple of beers, some water, grapes, a small bakery box and a few flat foil-wrapped packages that smelled good. “Seriously, I thought you were in strategy sessions all day. How did you make all this magic happen?”

Bucky laughed a little. “Honestly, I had some help. I just knew I wanted to do _something_ for you besides just watching movies in the common room. Steve suggested the roof, and then because he can’t keep his big mouth shut, Pepper found out and next thing I knew, the basket and the candles turn up on my doorstep. Sam helped me out with how to make these,” he added, unwrapping a couple of the packages to reveal quesadillas, of all things. “Realized I wasn’t sure what you like to eat, but I hope this is okay.”

“Fucking hell, Bucky. This is so much better than okay.” She gestured around at the food, the roof, and _him_ , hoping that it was clear that she didn’t just mean his menu choices. “A million times better than okay.”


	28. Chapter 28

Bucky would have assumed he was dreaming, except his dreams never got this good. The sun had set at least an hour earlier and they were still on the roof, still picking at the last bits of the food as Darcy told him about the alien elves attacking London: just a line or two in her file, but an engrossing epic when told in her words. He’d let her do most of the talking, just a question here and there on his end, because god, she already knew all the worst of his life and a fair amount of the decent stuff too. He wanted to know about her, and not just the epic battles; her stories about school and life in Norway and tracking space anomalies out in the desert were just as entertaining.

“So then we had to plug in these spike things that Erik made, right when this big giant fuckoff _spaceship_ is plowing into the middle of Greenwich and portal thingies are opening all over the place because of the Convergence.” Pausing her story, she took the last of the mini pastries and popped it into her mouth. “God, this is good. I’ve gotta learn to do eclairs and stuff one of these days. Anyhow, so Thor is fighting the main bad elf dude but they’re portaling in and out of god knows where and then _I_ got portaled around the corner and right into some of the henchmen dudes, except this one car was in the weird no-gravity field and so Ian picked it up and clobbered them.”

“Ian, huh?”

Darcy smiled at him, the candlelight glowing on her face, and popped a finger into her mouth to catch a stray drop of pastry cream. Watching her, he was a hair’s-breadth away from forgetting her story, forgetting propriety and the fact that the roof was technically still a public space. “Trust me, not that I don’t appreciate that he saved my ass in the moment, but that was absolutely the only remarkable thing he ever did. My exes in general have been pretty short in the ‘remarkable’ department. Hence why they’re exes. What about yours? I mean, I don’t think Natasha counts, but you must have had the girls lined up three deep back in the day.”

Her question jolted him out of his train of thought, where he’d been trying to extrapolate whether all her talk of ‘exes’ meant that she might see him as her _current_ and not just somebody she was out on a date with. God, he hoped so. “I don’t know about that, doll.”

Darcy scoffed. “Oh, come on. You are the actual dictionary definition of ‘tall, dark and handsome.’ No girlfriends? Flings? Quickies in the back of the dance hall? _Boyfriends?_ I mean, people online _do_ have some deeply-held convictions about you and Steve, after all…”

He knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, and he had to laugh. “Well, don’t tell the people online that we practised on each other one time when neither of us were quite sure we knew how to kiss a girl properly.”

That just about made her eyes pop out of her head. “Get the fuck out of here. Seriously?”

“It was _deeply_ unsatisfying and poorly thought out on both our parts, but yes,” he replied, shaking his head at her expression. “Honestly, I think we were both a little curious, but it definitely confirmed that I love him like a brother and not like… anything else. And before you ask: no, that wasn’t my first kiss. Angela Bianchi, after church in eighth grade.”

“And… what about when you were a little older than eighth grade?” Darcy persisted, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know if there’s much to tell. Took a lot of girls on dates, went steady with a few. I wasn’t a virgin when I joined the Army, if that’s what you’re asking. Not much ‘remarkable’, if I want to use your expression.” He wasn’t sure how much had faded with the passing of time and all the ways his head had been messed with in between, but his memory sure as hell couldn’t conjure up anybody who’d sent him reeling the way Darcy Lewis had. “Nobody like you.”

“Sweet talker.” Shifting closer to him, she tilted her face up, making it so easy to close the tiny distance and kiss her. Amazing, really, how easy she made it, considering he’d never really expected he’d have the chance or the comfort level to ever get close like this with anyone again. And then he felt the flicker of her tongue against his lower lip and his conscious thoughts left the building, unable to help the growl in the back of his throat as he wrapped his arm round her to pull her closer. His metal fingers couldn’t quite register all the subtleties that his flesh could, but they picked up just fine on her warmth, the softness where the curve of her hip began, the wrinkles in her dress where it was bunched up from sitting on the ground. With his right hand, he traced along her jawline, past her ear, and tangled into her hair as he deepened the kiss, tasting his way into her mouth with his tongue and savouring every little sound she made.

Her hands started out at the back of his neck, but when he got bolder so did she, letting her right hand slide over to his shoulder; it made him startle just a bit, and that made Darcy pull back. “I’m sorry,” she said, removing her hand immediately but not quite pulling out of his space. “Is it… is it triggery to be touched there? If that’s not too personal a question.”

“Darcy, you’re allowed to get as personal as you want.” Taking her right hand in his left, he ran his thumb over the hollow of her palm, before very deliberately putting her hand back on his metal shoulder, near the seam where it met flesh. “It’s… a little strange, but not bad strange. Just haven’t been touched there much at all, except for people working on my arm. And apart from Shuri’s team, that wasn’t exactly a gentle experience.” He had to draw in a breath as her fingers started tracing the seam of scar tissue, the thin, tight borrowed shirt making it feel almost as if she were touching his skin.

“Does it hurt?” Her voice was hushed, but the expression on her face made it seem like the stillness of someone examining a work of art or a rare book, rather than a medical aberration.

“Not anymore, mostly.” He flexed the arm a little, watching her face as her eyes followed the shifting of the metal plates: normally something he only did purposely if he was trying to intimidate someone, but in her case, it just felt like full disclosure. Making sure she knew what he was made of, so she could decide if she wanted to get closer. And as improbable as it seemed, he could tell that – so far, at least – she did want that. Want him. “Sometimes in the cold it’ll ache, but it’s a million times better since the work they did in Wakanda. I’m still getting used to this arm – I went a long time without one at all, while I was there – but it’s lighter, feels more natural than the Hydra one.”

“Can you feel with it?”

He nodded. “Even the Hydra arm did, to a point – needed the dexterity for their purposes. This one… it’s not _perfect_ , but it’s about as close as I can imagine tech getting.”

“So…” Darcy ran her hand down his arm to take hold of his wrist and lift his metal hand. He thought she would maybe examine it; instead, she dropped a soft kiss on his palm. “Can you feel that?”

He sucked in a breath. “Yeah.”

“And this?” She kissed the tip of his index finger, letting her mouth linger. When he nodded – not trusting himself to words – she actually sucked on the pad of his next finger for a second.

The sensors translated it, giving his brain enough information to _almost_ process the sensation. Enough to think about how her mouth would feel on his skin; definitely enough to tip him all the way over from partially to fully hard. “Jesus, doll.” His voice was a little strangled. “What are you doing?”

Darcy lifted their joined hands and nuzzled her cheek over his metal knuckles. “Proving a point.”

“Which is?”

Letting his hand drop, she turned her gaze to his face, clearly waiting to make sure she had his attention. “That I like this hand, this arm, as much as any other part of you. I mean, not that I’ve had a chance to test out all the parts yet…” That startled a laugh out of him, and she laughed with him, but then her expression turned serious. “But seriously, Bucky. I’ve seen some of what they did to you. I know I don’t know it all, and I can’t even imagine all the work you must’ve had to put in, the last couple of years, to try and reconstruct yourself. But I just… I don’t even know how to say it.”

She might not have known how to say it, but he was pretty sure he got her meaning. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him: it felt like she actually _saw_ him. All of him. “I think you’re saying it just fine.” God. He’d known this girl for a matter of days and he was in deep. A lifetime ago, back during the war, he’d known a guy or two who’d gone on leave for a few days, met someone and fell in love; Bucky had always been skeptical of stories like that, but now he felt like he might be pretty close to living in one. “Darcy, I… I know it hasn’t been long, but I’m nuts about you. Can I…” It felt oddly formal to ask, but he had to get it straight in his head, had to make sure he knew where this was going. “Can I call you my girl?”

It was dark, and some of the candles had already guttered out, but there was still enough light for him to see the huge smile on her face. “Hell yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you thought there'd be a resolution to that slow burn? Soon, but not yet... *cackles*


	29. Chapter 29

Darcy shuffled into the lab, coffee in hand, wondering why exactly Science had to take place on a Sunday morning but otherwise in excellent spirits. “Morning, boss lady!”

Turning away from what looked like an epic equation that spanned more than one whiteboard, Jane raised an eyebrow. “I take it the date went well? Did Barnes make it out intact, or do you secretly have him chained to your bed?”

“Ooh, you’re saucy today,” Darcy replied, nearly spilling her precious caffeine as her brain supplied a vivid mental image of _that_ suggestion. Belatedly, she noticed that in addition to the cheeky comment, Jane was freshly showered and generally too chipper-looking to have spent all night in the lab, as Darcy had initially suspected. “How was _your_ night?”

“We’re not talking about me,” Jane began, but relented half a second later. “Alright. I was taking advantage of the quiet up here, and Thor turned up around, I don’t know, nine PM or so. Just to bring me some sandwiches and tea, asked a couple of actually reasonably smart questions about what I was working on, and then _left me to it_ while he went to have beers with Tony and Sam and Bruce. It was so sweet.”

It wasn’t everybody’s definition of a sweet gesture on a Saturday night, but Darcy had to give Thor some mental props; it seemed like after all these years he might be actually figuring Jane out. “And so you did _some_ work, but then booty-called him when you were done?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite _like that_ , but I guess you could say so, yes.”

Smirking, Darcy looked at the equation. The math was beyond her scope, but she recognized the general outlines. “Are you analyzing what’s different between the Bifrost and Thor’s new axe?”

Jane hopped up from the desk she’d perched on. “Yes! I actually had a brainstorm on the way back here this morning, and… Hang on. Before we get too far with this, I notice you haven’t actually answered me about your night with Barnes at all.”

Unable to help the smile that spread across her face, Darcy relented. “Yes, the night was amazing. No, he’s not chained to my bed, more’s the pity. Did not actually make it as far as bed.”

“On the roof?”

With a sigh, Darcy shook her head. “No, I mean, actually did not make it as far as any of the sex. Yet.”

Jane laughed. “You know, you’re talking as if you’ve been dancing around this for months or something. You’ve known the guy for what, a week and a half?”

About to make a retort, Darcy paused when she heard the sound of raised voices in the hallway. A second later, the lab door opened to admit a dark-haired woman who walked in like she owned the place. She was flanked by Pepper, whose mouth was set in something close to a frown, and followed by Thor and Steve, both of whom looked royally pissed off. “Darcy Lewis?” From the look on the woman’s face, the question was clearly a formality: she knew exactly who everyone was. “I’m Maria Hill, director of SHIELD. I need to ask you a few questions. And Doctor Foster, I’ll need to speak to you as well, separately.”

“Maria, I really don’t think this is necessary,” Steve began.

“I hope you’re right. If so, the worst thing that’ll happen is I’ll waste some of her time. But I’m not willing to risk it.” Turning back to Darcy, Hill raised an eyebrow. “If you’ll come with me.”

Steve didn’t look any happier, Jane looked completely baffled, and there was a faint smell of ozone in the air that suggested that Thor wasn’t planning to use his words, and for a second all Darcy could do was wonder _what in the entire fuck_ was going on. And then it clicked. “Sure, let’s go. It’s fine,” she added, raising both hands when it looked like two Avengers and a scientist were about to speak at once. “I get it. We’re new, you need to vet us. Lead on.”

Darcy followed Hill in silence until they arrived at a small room on the basement level. Inside was a table, a laptop of the non-Stark-tech variety, a thick file of paperwork, and three chairs. One of which was occupied by a bald Black man in a leather coat and a freaking _eyepatch_ , who was tenting his fingers together and glaring a hole in Darcy’s sternum the moment she walked in.

“Darcy Ann Lewis.”

“Mister Clean,” she replied, trying to look like she’d said that aloud on purpose instead of just blurting out the first thing that had popped into her brain.

The man looked at her, then back at the file in front of him, but gave no other hint of a reaction as Hill indicated that Darcy should take a seat. “How did a political science major wind up interning with an astrophysicist?” He asked the question like it was a matter of great interest to him. “Little outside your area of expertise, isn’t it?”

Darcy shrugged. It was a question she’d been asked before, though not usually in such an ominous atmosphere. “Your SHIELD buddies asked me that years ago. The answer hasn’t changed. I was debating changing my major to something in the sciences and figured an internship would help me make up my mind. I’d taken an astronomy elective where Jane gave a guest lecture. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Mm-hm. And the fact that you made a lump sum payment of thirty thousand dollars against your student loans approximately six months after joining Doctor Foster?”

This fucker had her _bank records?_ “Yeah. Because my grandfather died, and left me that money. What, you don’t have his will there too, since it seems like you know everything about me?”

“I’ll pull the details on the grandfather,” Hill said, noting something down on a small tablet.

And then the wheels in Darcy’s brain went from double-time to a dead stop as she figured it out. She’d had a feeling this sudden urge to vet her was tied into the fact she’d been spending time with Bucky, but it hadn’t occurred to her that anyone would think there was anything nefarious about it. “Are you kidding me? You think I was paid off to get in with Jane, to pull some kind of long con on the Avengers? You think some supervillains just _knew_ we were gonna cross paths with Thor, and then what, seven years later we’d wind up here? Because that is one hell of a crystal ball, my friend.”

“Wouldn’t be the longest con Hydra’s pulled. Not by a long shot.”

“You think I’m _Hydra_?” Unsure whether to laugh or cry at the idea, she settled for shaking her head. “You have got to be…”

Her thought was cut off by the door banging open to admit Natasha. “What the hell, Nick?”

“Well hello Agent Romanoff, a pleasure to see you too,” the man responded, in the most deadpan voice Darcy had ever heard. “Thing is, I don’t recall seeing your name on the invite list for this meeting.”

“Let’s cut the shit,” Natasha replied. “You think I haven’t been over Lewis’s background with a fine-toothed comb already?” She had the decency to give Darcy a raised eyebrow and a half-shrug as acknowledgement, at least, before continuing. “Had to do my homework, just in case Barnes’s judgement was… skewed. Lewis is clean.”

“Inheritance from the grandfather checks out,” Hill added, passing the tablet across the table for the man – Nick – to see.

He sighed. “Motherfucker.”

Darcy looked around at everyone in the room, who all seemed to think that this was a perfectly normal conversation to be having. “What, you’re _disappointed_ that I’m not Hydra?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Nick replied. “But it would be nice, just one damn time, for the obvious lead to be the right one. Romanoff, I assume you’ve heard the chatter?”

“Obviously. Everyone on the compound checks out, but there’s more traffic in and out of here than I like – deliveries, contractors. Now that it’s an open secret that Barnes is with the team, somebody’s bound to make a move. Tony got used to this just being his hangout, but security needs to be tightened up significantly. I…”

The door banged open again, with a great deal more force this time, and Nick rolled his one visible eye. “Sure, come in, Barnes. Might as well make it a party.”

Darcy had seen Bucky in his tactical gear before, but the barely-contained menace that was coming off him in waves, that was something new. “Fury.”

“Seem to remember you shot me, last time we met.”

“Is that what this is about?” Bucky’s voice was controlled, but Darcy could see the tightness in his jaw. He hadn’t yet looked at her.

They stared at each other for several long seconds before Nick gave a long exhale and shook his head, suddenly looking more like a frustrated civil servant and less like he was about to set someone on fire by telepathy. “It’s about doing our homework and hitting a dead end,” he conceded. “You’re free to go,” he added, half-nodding in Darcy’s direction like she was an afterthought all of a sudden. “Romanoff, Barnes, we should debrief.”

“One minute,” Bucky replied. His face was still hard, but he ghosted a hand over the small of Darcy’s back when she stood, and he stepped out into the hall with her.

As soon as the door closed, leaving them alone in the grey corridor, Bucky’s expression changed from dangerous to concerned, his eyes skating all over her face as if he was checking her for injuries. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

She nodded, not quite trusting her words for a second as the tension belatedly caught up to her. “What the fuck,” she said eventually. “They thought I was Hydra. You know I’m not, right? You know I’d never…”

“I know.” Gathering her into his arms, he brushed his cheek against her temple, his voice low. “I know. I know I’m safe with you. But…”

“But what?” Pulling back just a little, she looked up into his eyes.

Frowning, he spread his hands a little wider over her back. “But they’re not wrong, that Hydra is going to want to try and either re-acquire me, or eliminate me, and they’re not wrong that Hydra probably already knows I’m here. I’m not especially scared of that, not now that the programming’s out of my head and I’ve got Steve and the rest of them watching my back. But it scares the shit out of me that being around me puts you in danger. Bad enough that you’re being dragged in to get interrogated by Fury, never mind the target that I’ve put on your back. I don’t want you hurt just because I’m too selfish to…”

“Hey. Listen to me.” She moved her hands around to his chest, grabbing on to the straps on the front of his jacket to make sure she had his attention. “If you don’t want this anymore, that’s one thing, but don’t you dare talk yourself into backing off just because you’ve got some misplaced sense of nobility about my safety, for fuck’s sake. Were the Dark Elves and the Convergence bullshit because of _you_? Did Loki send a giant fuckoff robot to blast up a whole town because of _you_? I’ve been on SHIELD’s radar for almost a quarter of my life, and that’s besides just generally being a woman and risking my life if I say yes or no to the wrong dude. So let me tell you that, in the grand scheme of my life, coming here and falling in love with a badass super-soldier assassin is probably _the safest thing I’ve ever done._ ”

Bucky just stared at her, wide-eyed, as she recovered her breath after her rant. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Did you mean that?”

“What, that I’m safer with you than without you? Obviously.”

“No.” His teeth dug into his lower lip before continuing. “The other thing.”

Rewinding her words in her head, she realized what she’d blurted out in the heat of the moment. It was absolutely true, though she hadn’t meant to say it so soon, and she sure as hell hadn’t meant it to come as part of telling him off. But there it was. “Yeah. I… I know it’s too soon, and I’m not trying to freak you out or expecting you to say it back or anything but… yeah. I love you.”

Her heart felt like it was going to tunnel its way out of her chest, and she was just debating whether there was any way she could make herself vanish into the floor, when Bucky took a deep breath and brought both his hands up to cradle her face. “Thought it was just me,” he said, voice still low and soft. “I love you too.” Leaning down, he kissed her, his mouth just barely open, then rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve gotta go back in there, but we’re going to pick this up tonight, sweetheart.”

Darcy’s heart was still thumping, but for a whole new set of reasons. “Definitely,” she replied, stealing one more kiss before she let him go. “I’ve got plans for you.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter, because it's Friday and I feel like it. (I posted chapter 29 earlier today, so do make sure you've read that first!)

Bucky knew how to keep his focus on the task at hand, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t ready for the day to wrap up so he could get back to Darcy. And by the fifth time the meeting got sidetracked with some personal digression of Stark’s, he was beginning to lose his patience. Pulling his phone out of his pocket under the table, he checked his texts.

_Let me know when you’re done, but if it’s late it’s okay._

Taking a glance to see that he still wasn’t missing anything important, he typed back. _Think we’re almost done but Stark keeps dragging things out._

Darcy pinged him with a reply almost immediately. _I can deal with that._

A couple of minutes later, FRIDAY’s voice sounded in the room. “Boss, the entertainment systems throughout this building seems to be malfunctioning.”

Tony furrowed his brow. “So fix it.”

“It appears someone has circumvented my systems.”

By this point, about half the team looked amused and the other half looked like they were wondering if they needed to be concerned. Of course, Steve was in the latter group. “What have they done?”

“It appears that the only thing the televisions will display is a slideshow of photos.”

Tony took a breath, looking like the situation was testing his patience. “What _kind_ of photos, FRIDAY?”

“Someone appears to have digitally edited your face into a variety of explicit photos, Boss. Along with Captain Rogers.”

That was it. The whole room broke out laughing, nearly drowning out Stark’s cursing and Steve’s vague spluttering. “This I’ve _gotta_ see,” Sam declared, starting a mass exodus.

Bucky shuffled out with the rest of them, but turned the other way when the rest of them headed upstairs towards the big lounge. When he was around the corner he pulled his phone back out. _I don’t know what you just did, sweetheart, but remind me never to make you angry._

_Does this mean your stuff is done? Can I interest you in an evening of pasta, movies, and fooling around?_

_Yes to all of that, doll._

_Excellent. Get your ass over here, Sarge._

He ducked into his own room just long enough to change into a regular shirt, brush his teeth and make sure he wasn’t too much of a mess, before heading across to Darcy’s building. Stepping in, he found her in the kitchen, swaying her hips to some music as she shook a spice jar over a pan of something, and for a couple of seconds he just watched her and tried not to overanalyze the corner of his brain that was shouting things about wanting to come home to this every day. _For one thing, it’s twenty-eighteen_ , he told himself. _I oughta be cooking for her half the time too. Jesus,_ he thought, shaking his head a little. _Getting pretty far ahead of yourself here, pal._

Darcy spun around, interrupting his musing. “Ha. Thought I felt eyes on my ass.”

Laughing, he met her halfway and slid his arms round her. “Wasn’t the only place my eyes were. Sorry I had to go straight back into that meeting with Fury before,” he added. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Totally ready for an evening to take my mind off it, but I’m fine. What’d you think was going on there, anyhow? Busting in with all your gear on like you were going to kick ass and take names.”

“I didn’t know. Maybe overreacted a bit.”

But she shook her head. “Feel free to come to my rescue any time. It made me feel a hell of a lot better, trust me. And besides, it was hot as hell.”

“Yeah?”

Darcy grinned at him. “Yeah. Kinda thought you were gonna throw me over your shoulder and haul me out of there.”

As she pressed herself in a little closer, he could feel his heartrate kick up a bit. “Seems like I missed an opportunity.”

“Trust me,” she replied, coming up on her tiptoes and just barely brushing her lips against his. “After dinner, you can haul me back to my room any way you like.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t catch her implication, but it took him a second to believe it. “Your room, huh?”

“Hmmm. That way we can multitask. Movies _and_ fooling around. I mean, my little surprise for Tony will probably keep them all occupied for a while, but it won’t buy us privacy out here all evening.” A timer went off, sending her scrambling back to the stove to turn a burner off and drain the pot of pasta.

“So how did you do that, anyhow?” he asked, taking a seat at the table.

Darcy took her time about answering, but eventually relented when she sat down across from him. “A magician never reveals her secrets. But I will say, when Tony was setting up his security, he wasn’t really anticipating anybody screwing around with the entertainment system of all things.”

“And… FRIDAY said it was Tony and Steve’s faces on… explicit photos?”

She broke out laughing, her cheeks turning pink, and it was such a pretty sight he almost forgot what he’d asked about. “Oh yeah. I mean, all I had to do was look online for those. I figured if I only did Tony he might just be amused, but it’d make a bigger uproar if I used some of the ones with Steve in them. Or in _him_ , in some cases,” she added, almost making Bucky choke on a mouthful of food.

“What?”

Darcy shrugged. “What can I say? The little kids with the Cap masks for Halloween aren’t the only kinds of superhero fans out there. Do you wanna see any of the ones of you, or would it ruin your life?”

Bucky realized his mouth was hanging open. “I… I’ll pass, doll.”

“That’s fair. I’m sure they don’t do justice to the real thing.” With a wink, she took a big forkful of pasta. “Although I’m looking forward to finding out.”

By the time they headed back to Darcy’s room, she’d dropped so many little hints that he was just about crawling out of his skin with a mix of desire and a hell of a lot of nerves. He’d gotten a quick look at her room the evening before, but it felt different to actually be invited in, to take off his boots and look around. The layout of her room wasn’t any different than his, the furnishings were the same, but that was where the similarities ended: the walls were painted a deep rich blue and her bed was covered in a silvery duvet and at least a half-dozen pillows. “Hell of a lot nicer than my room,” he blurted out.

Darcy grinned at him. “I asked Tony if I could paint, once it seemed like I was sticking around. That basic grey colour was the worst. If you want to do yours, I actually kick ass at painting walls.”

The seemingly innocent comment sent him reeling. Painting walls, when he was waiting to see if he’d even be allowed to stay in the country? “Hope I can stick around long enough to do that.”

“Hey. Come here.” Despite her words, she was the one to come to him, running her little hands up his chest and fixing him with those big eyes of hers. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just…”

Darcy shook her head. “I mean it. Look, I know the hearings are a thing, and nobody’s going to totally breathe easy till they’re done. But I’m going to tell you three things. One: you’re allowed to feel however you feel about it. I don’t _want_ you to worry, but I’m not going to tell you not to. Two: if it really did come down to you having to go back to Wakanda, I’d go with you. I mean, if you wanted.”

His heart might have stopped beating for a second. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to…”

“Trust me, you might not be able to ask me _not_ to. I am crazy in love with you, Bucky Barnes. You’re kinda stuck with me.”

“I…” The words didn’t come, too tangled up in the truth in her eyes, the unbelievable fact that this sweet, gorgeous girl had just offered to _walk away from her life_ to be with him, if it came to it. He crashed his mouth into hers, trying to say it all that way, and she responded in kind. “I don’t deserve you,” he breathed, when they came up for air. And then he remembered something. “Didn’t you say there were three things?”

“C’mere,” she said again, and this time she tugged his hand to get him to sit down beside her on the edge of the bed. “Three: I know the superhero life is weird and unpredictable, whatever happens with the hearings. I know there’s going to be times when it’s gonna be tough. But this? You and me… this is easy.” Wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, she kissed him, soft and warm and just enough to start getting him wound up again. “It can be as easy as you want.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Truth was, he had an idea what she was getting at, but he needed her to spell it out, help him get it through his head that all this was real.

Darcy pulled back a little, her fingers stroking at the base of his skull. “I’m saying…” She kept on petting him, but her expression was more serious than flirty. “I’m saying that I know you’ve probably got a… complicated relationship with physical stuff. So if we need to take things slow because of that, or if you ever need me to stop or back off or not do a particular thing or not touch you a certain way, that’s fine. It’s not going to turn me off. Even if it’s in the middle of things because you didn’t know something was going to bother you till it happens. I’ve got some boundaries too. But I also really, _really_ want you. Like, making me kinda crazy here,” she added, her tongue flicking over her lower lip as her eyes travelled over him before coming back to his face. “So if you’re worried about stuff like how many dates we’ve been on, or trying to hold off to be respectful or whatever, just saying… you don’t need to worry about any of that. I’m up for just about anything.”

Somehow she’d taken a whole lot of things that had been knocking around in his head and answered them without him even having to ask. With a breath of her name he pulled her closer, a swirl of emotion in his chest and a shudder of desire going down his spine as he opened his mouth on hers. Even if she hadn’t just given him carte blanche to take things further, he felt like he could be happy just kissing her forever, learning all her little sighs and gasps and groans that told him that for once he was doing exactly the right thing. He was just thinking about how to make a move to lay her down on the bed, and whether he wanted to pull her on top of him or lay down beside her, when his brain snagged on one of the other things she’d said. “What boundaries?” he asked.

She gave a little huff of breath, like she was distressed that he’d stopped kissing her, but then she focused in. “What?”

“You said you have some boundaries. What are they?” Dear god, he hoped he hadn’t inadvertently already crossed any: was that why she’d mentioned it?

“Not many. Don’t pull my hair, don’t choke me.”

That brought him up to a screeching halt. “What? Sweetheart, I would never… god. Did you think I would…”

Looking worried all of a sudden, Darcy put a hand to his cheek. “No, I… not you specifically. It’s just something some people are into, but I really don’t like it.”

“Fuck. I’m living in fear that I might accidentally hurt you if I have a nightmare sometime, and some people are doing that for fun?”

He was ruining the mood, probably ruining the evening, he knew. But Darcy just stroked his face, like she’d been doing to the back of his neck before. “Hey. If nightmares are a thing, we can figure that out too, okay? Meanwhile, let’s put a movie on and get comfy.” Pulling away a bit, she propped some of her pillows up against the headboard and patted a spot for him to come sit beside her.

He felt huge and awkward all of a sudden, shifting himself to stretch out on her impossibly soft bedspread and lean back on her pillows. “You sure, doll?”

Darcy gave him a smile like she knew he didn’t just mean the immediate moment. “Never been surer of anything in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, this is all coming to a boil VERY soon!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

The evening had taken a couple of zig-zags, but it seemed like putting a movie on had been the right move; she’d felt Bucky start to relax a few minutes in, and he’d gotten over his moment of obvious self-consciousness about being stretched out on her bed. After a few more minutes, he’d put an arm around her and pulled her in closer, starting to nuzzle her hair in between commenting on the film. “Why does Bridget keep complaining about her weight?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“I know, right? I love this movie, but that part always bugged me,” Darcy replied. “I was still in high school when it came out and I remember thinking ‘if she’s worried about her body, how am I supposed to feel about mine?’”

“She’s got a nice figure. And _you_ ,” he added, turning his attention away from the screen to look her body up and down, more obviously than she’d caught him doing before. “You are a damn knockout. What the hell are you doing with me?”

“Right now? Debating how much longer I can fight off the temptation to climb you like a tree,” she replied, with total honesty, shifting around onto her side to face in towards him as he started to laugh. “Besides, have you _seen_ you? Your sheer hotness is probably sending male models into fits of despair.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as if the last comment was ridiculous, but he was still chuckling. “Climb me like a tree, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm. Hey, it’s better than what I told Jane I wanted to do to you, after the first time I brought you cookies.” She couldn’t quite believe she was offering this info freely, but if it made him laugh, she was up for it. If it moved things along, so much the better.

He eyed her with what looked like a mix of curiosity and trepidation. “Which was…?”

“Well, bear in mind that I did not think for one second that I’d ever have a shot with you, but… I believe my choice of phrase was that given the chance, I would bang you like a screen door in a hurricane.”

The lights were low in her room, but not so low that she couldn’t see the flush on his cheeks. “Yeah? That’s quite a picture.”

Had his pupils been so huge this whole time? The way he was staring at her – a bit like he couldn’t believe she was real, a bit like he was planning to eat her alive and come back for seconds – had her pinned to the spot, the movie a forgotten buzz in the background. “Yeah, well… I’ve been picturing a lot of things, where you’re concerned.”

“Jesus.” It was barely audible, as he exhaled heavily and twisted around so that he was facing her. And then his eyes were closing and his nose brushed against hers and then he was kissing her, hard and needy like some restraint had finally broken down. His flesh hand tangled up in her hair, cupping the back of her skull as his tongue slid over hers, and his metal hand was inching down to just ghost over the curve of her ass. It was the first time he’d touched her anywhere even vaguely sexual and it was such a pleasant surprise that she couldn’t help the noise she made. And when he answered with a growl of his own, and curved his hand round her ass properly, she took that as her cue to do what she’d been wanting to do since the first night they’d kissed, and shifted her weight around so that she could straddle his lap. And _oh fuck yes_ , she could feel him at last, his erection unmistakable even through the thick tactical pants.

When she shifted against him, he pulled back and stared at her and she realized he looked a bit like a deer in headlights. “This okay?” she asked, laying both her hands on his chest.

“You really want me.”

Her instinct was to make a smartass remark, but the way he said it – like he was talking more to himself than her, like he was only just finally letting himself believe it – told her it was no time to joke. “God, Bucky. I want you so much. Can I touch you?” She was touching him already, of course, but she pulled his t-shirt up just a millimeter or two, to make it clear what her question was.

“You sure?”

“So fucking sure.” To underline her point, she lowered her hands to the hem of her tunic, pulled it off and tossed it carelessly over her shoulder. “Your turn. If you want.”

Bucky just stared at her for a moment, his chest heaving like he’d run a race, before pulling his shirt off over his head with one hand. And though his gaze kept roving back down to her bare skin, she didn’t miss the vulnerability that surged up as soon as he’d opened himself up to view.

He was scarred, massively so, where the prosthetic met his skin, but she knew that already, had seen him in far worse shape in those Hydra photos. Seeing the real thing in front of her, the whole picture, was something else entirely: the whole length of his metal arm, sleek and black, gold at the joints like those Japanese ceramics that were made more beautiful by having been broken; his broad chest rising and falling with his breath; his abs taut, a dusting of dark hair making a trail down to his waistband. Even the scar tissue – she hated what it had meant for him, but the sight of it didn’t mar _him_ in her eyes. “Holy fuck,” she breathed, running her hands up both of his arms and then across his shoulders to rest at his collarbones. “You are so fucking beautiful, Bucky.” Leaning in, she kissed his neck, then moved down to his left shoulder, dropping kisses and little licks along his flesh, scars and all.

“Darcy.” His voice nearly cracked over her name, and he was tilting his head back, eyes half-closed, as if he was already overwhelmed. “Fuck, sweetheart. Can I…?”

By way of answer, she picked up his left hand and placed it on her chest, wondering if the tech was enough to let him feel the lace of her bra. “I’m all yours, Bucky. You can touch me.”

He brought his right hand up to mirror the left, at first just barely curving round the outer curves of her breasts before letting his hands start to slide over her, fingertips tracing up to follow the straps of her bra and then down along the scalloped edge where the lace met skin. The whole time, his eyes followed his hands like he couldn’t look away, like she might disappear. When she reached behind her back and unfastened the bra, he froze for just a split-second, barely a ring of blue showing around his blown pupils, and she was pretty sure that he actually held his breath as he slowly withdrew his hands, taking the bra with him. “Darcy… god.”

He stared for so long that she brought a hand up to his cheek. “You okay? Is this… too much?”

A breathy husk of a laugh was his first answer, before he pulled her closer with a kiss. “Think my heart stopped for a second there.”

And then finally, finally, he slid his hands up between their bodies and ran his flesh thumb around her nipple, making her shiver and whine into his mouth. “Does that mean I shouldn’t take my tights off?”

That pulled an honest-to-god moan out of him, and his hands tightened on her for a second. “Fuck. Never said that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes. In chapter 32 they finally get down to it, for real. Forgive the chapter break and the shortness of this one, but both of their POVs were needed for this...


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bonus chapter, since I'm too kind to leave everybody hanging for too long. Make sure you've read chapter 31 first!

There was a corner of Bucky’s brain that still kept expecting to wake up, but he was really on Darcy’s bed, and she truly was half-naked on top of him. Every one of his senses was alight and his heart was just about ready to jump out of his chest when she ran her hands down his stomach to rest just above his waistband. “And how would you feel about losing these?” she asked, her lips brushing against his ear.

She was so forward, not bothering in the least to hide how much she wanted him, and yet at the same time she was being so gentle. Not pushing him, just… opening a door, and another, and another, and giving him the chance to walk through with her. “You sure?” The idea of taking his pants off was actually a lot less scary than the shirt – at least below the belt he was whole, unscarred – but he needed her to spell it out.

“Hundred and fifty per cent,” Darcy replied. “If you are.”

When he nodded, she began to unfasten his belt, but after a few seconds he put out his hands to stop her. “You’d better let me,” he said, cheeks flaming. “Got me pretty wound up here.”

With just a hint of a pout, Darcy climbed off his lap and laid down against the pillows, wriggling out of her tights as she watched him stand up. She ditched her panties as well, making him forget what he’d been doing; for several long seconds he just stood there with his pants half-undone, drinking in the sight of her. “C’mon,” she said. “Get back here and kiss me.”

_Beautiful naked girl asking you to get back into bed and you’re standing here with your mouth hanging open,_ he told himself, and shoved the tac pants down and kicked them off before he could think any further. He didn’t quite have the nerve to give up his underwear just yet, but she didn’t seem to mind; in fact, she was actually making grabby-hands gestures at him.

“Fucking hell, Bucky. It should be illegal to be that hot.” He was moving back onto the bed but she met him halfway, up on her knees to wrap her arms around him, her hands wandering all over his back as their mouths collided.

They tumbled down onto the covers in a tangle of limbs and hands and kisses, and he’d never been so happy to feel so overwhelmed. The taste of her mouth, the heat of her skin on his, the gorgeous little sounds of hers that made him want to keep winding her up further. The picture she made, all that dark hair and bare skin and curves like a damn pinup. And _oh dear god_ , the moment when he realized that the scent underlying her perfume was _her_ , that it was the scent of her arousal, and that he was the one responsible for it. He wanted to shift their position around, make space to slide his hand down her body, get up the nerve to touch her, _really_ touch her. But when Darcy pushed him over onto his back, he was only too happy to let her do it, to let her sprawl out on top of him, her tits crushed up against his chest, her legs bracketing his hips. He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his life, and she liked it, wasn’t making any secret of the fact. She was starting to rock her hips on him, her breath coming in little gasps between their kisses, only the one thin layer of fabric separating his cock from the heat of her, and it felt so goddamned good that it all got away from him all too soon. He gasped her name, tightened his hands on her waist, but it was too late: a half-second later his vision was full of stars and he was coming in his pants like a damn teenager. “Fuck,” he hissed, unable to meet her gaze. “Sorry.”

He waited for her to climb off him, half-expecting her to say something harsh, or to laugh, but Darcy just shifted her weight a little so she wasn’t pressing down on his groin any longer. “My sweet boy.” Her voice was gentle, but still warm, still flirty. “Don’t apologize. I’m feeling pretty good, thinking I could turn you on that much.”

“You definitely do that.” With his arms around her, he rolled them both onto their sides, trying to keep his hips back a little from hers because he knew he was a mess. “If I’m being honest, I’m lucky that didn’t happen earlier, after so long, and the way you drive me crazy. I never stood a chance. Will you… will you let me make it up to you?”

“Mmm, nothing you have to ‘make up’ to me, but I will absolutely let you do pretty much whatever you want to me right now.” Twisting away for a second, she pushed the fuzzy bedspread down and kicked it off the end of the bed, leaving them on top of the sheets. “There. Now we can really get as messy as we want.”

She startled a laugh out of him, the way she was so forthright about it; it made him a bit less self-conscious about peeling off his underwear and grabbing a tissue from her bedside table to clean himself up a little. “That sounds like a challenge, doll.”

He pulled her back in for a kiss, and then couldn’t help a growl in the back of his throat when she shamelessly grabbed his bare ass and squeezed. With her other hand, she was running her fingernails up and down his metal arm, sparking a flurry of sensory data that his brain translated into something pleasantly shivery that set all his natural nerve endings into high gear. And hard to say how much was the super-soldier serum and how much was just _Darcy_ , but his cock was already starting to stir again. But first, he wanted to make sure his girl felt good.

Letting his hands go to her chest, he trailed his mouth over her jaw and down her neck, mapping her geography, learning what she liked from the sounds she made, the way she squirmed and writhed and arched against him. Kissing his way up the swell of her left breast, he slowed his pace a little, gave her a chance to tell him no, but when she breathed out “Bucky, _please_ ,” he let his tongue draw a little spiral before he gently drew her nipple into his mouth. He remembered this, remembered driving a few girls crazy this way, decades before, but most of them hadn’t been spread out naked under him, groaning his name like it was a filthy word. No way had any of them been this beautiful. And not a single one had held his heart in their hands the way Darcy Lewis did. He wanted to make this count, take his time, make it perfect for her.

“Fuck, Bucky. Touch me, please.”

Drawing his mouth up off her, he let his teeth just barely graze her on the way, and the noise she made definitely ensured he was well on the way to being fully hard again. “I am touching you, sweetheart,” he replied, running his thumb back and forth over her on the other side.

“Mmm, and I love what you’re doing, but… nnngggh… need those fingers somewhere else.” Curling her hand round his, she started guiding him between her legs. He let her do it, unable to help a filthy noise of his own when his fingertips met the damp tangle of curls between her legs. She was so wet, and the way she spread her legs wider at his first touch was like something out of a dream. Holding his breath for a second, he started to explore, sliding his fingers over and around her clit before dipping one finger just a little ways inside her. It was just enough to tease and he knew it.

“So fuckin’ beautiful.” He kissed his way down her stomach, unable to help a smile as she gasped out a stream of encouragement for what he had in mind. When he’d slithered down the bed enough to get her thighs up over his shoulders, he had to take a second to pause and really take in what was happening: not just the gorgeous sight of her spread out for him, not just the scent of her making him desperate for a taste, not even just the way she lifted her head and met his gaze for a moment before closing her eyes and tilting her head back on the pillow with a moan. All of those things, _and_ the fact that she had him comfortable enough in his own skin to be doing this, to actually be feeling a bit like that man he’d been in Brooklyn once upon a time.

And then he couldn’t help himself any longer: spreading his metal hand out over her abdomen, just above her mound, he dipped his mouth down to her, taking a long, deliberate lick before pressing his tongue up inside. “Taste so good, sweetheart,” he growled, barely willing to take his mouth off her but wanting her to hear it. Needing her to know that this wasn’t payback, wasn’t about making anything up to her anymore, that being this close to her, making her feel good, it was maybe the most perfect thing that had ever happened in his wreck of a life.

Darcy kept gasping out his name - all mixed in with curses and pleas and encouragement - and as he focused in on her clit, trying that old trick of spelling out his name on her with his tongue, she got a lot less coherent. And when he dared to slide a finger inside her, then a second one, she started to tremble and whine, her hips trying to buck up even as his left hand held her down. But she went silent in that last moment, her whole body tensing before he felt the first pulse of her release. He eased up with his mouth, but kept stroking her inside for as long as her muscles kept fluttering round his fingers.

“C’mere, c’mere,” she said at last, in a breathless tone that he wanted to hear forever. Darcy was grabbing at his shoulders, but he was already crawling up the bed to pull her close. “Need you. Need you inside me.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Please,_ ” she replied, then surprised him with a kiss, not seeming to care that she had to be tasting herself all over his face. And then she opened her eyes a little wider. “Are you… is that okay?”

“Oh god. So much more than okay, doll. Do we need anything?”

She blinked. “Fuck. Yeah, we should. Top drawer,” she added, with a vague wave of her hand as if she couldn’t quite move her limbs properly just yet.

The box was unopened, and his brain took a second to register that she’d probably bought these for him, sometime in the last couple of days since everything had started happening with them. Something he should have taken care of himself, if he’d imagined in his wildest dreams that they’d get to this point so quickly, but the idea that she’d been planning, been thinking about getting him into her bed – it turned him on even more, if that was even possible at this point. Tearing through the box, he pulled out one of the little foil packets and was about to turn away and sit on the edge of the bed when he felt Darcy’s hand on his shoulder.

“Uh-uh. I wanna see,” she said, her eyes travelling down to his cock the second he shifted around to face her. “God, you’re _perfect._ ”

He could feel the heat in his cheeks, the way she was staring, the way she watched his fingers as he unrolled the condom onto himself, making absolutely no secret of the fact that she was really, really looking forward to everything that was about to happen. She was brazen and open and absolutely shameless about what they were doing, and he was just about dizzy with how much he loved it. Loved _her_. “Don’t know about that,” he managed to reply. “Gonna try not to make a fool of myself again here.”

“No such thing.” Pulling him down, she hooked one leg over his as he slotted his hips between her thighs. “I just want to feel you… want this to be good for you. Fast, or slow, or whatever. It’s not like this is a one-time thing.”

“Already the best thing that’s happened to me in a lotta years,” he told her, resting his forehead against her temple for a moment, taking a breath before he lined himself up with her. “Maybe ever.”

“Oh, I fucking love you,” she replied, and then gave a long, drawn-out sigh of “ _Yessssss_ ,” as he started inching his cock into her. She was so wet he probably could have slid all the way home in one stroke, but he took it slow, needing to adjust to the sensation so he didn’t completely lose it again.

“Darcy…” He barely recognized the sound of his own voice, already almost straining over the two syllables as he pulled back just a little, then slid a little deeper. And then again, and then once more, till he was fully buried in her, holding there, seeing stars behind his closed eyelids again for a moment.

“Holy shit, you feel so fucking good.” Darcy shifted her hips just a little and it sent a full-body shudder through him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Look at me.”

It took a second, but he opened his eyes. Shifting his weight onto his left forearm, he used his other hand to grab her wrist and press her hand up against his chest, letting her feel the way his heart was practically beating its way out of his ribcage. “This… this is all you. It’s yours.” Leaving her hand over his heart, he put his own hand back down, balancing himself again and finding the nerve to move, to start a slow drag out and back in. It almost made his eyes roll back into his head on the first try. “So good, Darcy. Fuck.” He gave it a little more force on the second thrust, and the third, and felt a jolt of raw _need_ down his spine when she met him in a sloppy, artless kiss and twined her legs around his waist. “Like that?”

In answer, she bucked her hips up to meet him, picking up on his rhythm. “ _Exactly_ like that. God, Bucky. You’re going to make me come again.”

That was all the encouragement he needed: he let go a bit more of his restraint and slid his left hand under her ass to lift her a little. It was something he only half-remembered and he didn’t honestly know anymore whether it was something he’d actually tried back in the day or just a trick that soldiers had talked about in the barracks, but it didn’t take long before the change in the angle made Darcy fall apart, her body trembling in his arms as he felt her spasm around his cock. She went silent again at the peak of her orgasm, her mouth open in a soundless gasp, and he felt a surge of pride that he _recognized_ that look now because he’d made her come twice. He got that half-second of conscious thought in, before the feel of her completely undid him. “Love you,” he groaned, and then he went over the edge, the release hitting him so hard he was a little surprised he stayed conscious.

Head still spinning, he pulled out and managed to shift his weight off of Darcy, feeling like his muscles had all gone liquid. “Oh my god,” Darcy sighed, running a hand down his chest. “That was… oh my god. Oh, here,” she added, grabbing a couple more tissues as she watched him take the condom off – again, like it was a normal thing, like it wasn’t any kind of distraction from the mood. “I got that.” She took it carefully from his hand, kissed his cheek and slid out of bed. “Back in a sec. Do _not_ go anywhere.”


	33. Chapter 33

Her legs were a little wobbly – and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex good enough to leave her in that kind of a state – but Darcy moved fast, wanting to get herself cleaned up and get back out there. At first it was just not wanting to miss a second of blissed-out, post-orgasmic Bucky, but as her head cleared a little, a hint of worry crept in. Would he start getting up in his head about everything, after the fact? She’d already seen how easily he could get shaken out of his comfort zone, how easily the uncertainty could creep back in. And as much as she’d tried to make extra sure that he’d been on board for every step, there was no denying things had moved fast. Was he going to get freaked out and leave? Fuck, she hoped not.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheet covering his lap. _Bridget Jones’ Diary_ was still playing on the TV, completely forgotten by both of them. “FRIDAY, stop the movie, please.”

That got Bucky’s attention, and he looked at her like he didn’t know what to do next. “I hope you weren’t planning on going anywhere, gorgeous,” she told him, then rethought what she’d just said. “I mean… do you want to go?”

“No.” A little more animation showed in his face, but she could still see the uncertainty there. God, she wanted to wipe that off the slate for him, but she knew that some making out and one round of sex wasn’t magically going to make all his trauma go away. “No, I just… wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay, or…”

“Let me just make a policy statement.” She climbed onto the bed and draped her arms around him from behind, dropping a kiss on his left shoulder where the metal met flesh. “You are always, always, welcome to stay. In my room, in my bed, wherever I am, okay? On the other hand, I also know that sometimes people need space, and I know this all escalated pretty quickly, so if you feel like you need some peace and quiet or whatever, that’s fine, I promise. But it seems like right now, I want you to stay and you don’t want to go, so why don’t we get comfortable, hmm?”

Bucky turned his head and gave her a soft smile. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart. Don’t know if I could walk that far right now anyhow,” he added, laying back against the pillows that she propped up for him.

“Oh yeah?” She leaned in against his chest, and for a guy with a metal arm and solid muscle just about everywhere else, he was awfully damn nice to cuddle up to.

“Mmm. My girl just took me to bed and wore me out. Feeling a bit like…” She looked up and found him grinning at her. “Like a screen door after a hurricane.”

Darcy burst out laughing, and when Bucky started laughing along with her, she felt like that was almost as good as the sex. “Well, I guess you’d better get some rest, then. Before the next storm rolls in.”

In response, he made a happy sort of noise that she wanted to memorize for posterity, his posture softening a little more as he wrapped his arms around her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, laying her hand over his and running her thumb over the intricacies of the metal plates.

Bucky took his time in responding. “Thinking I’m glad I told you I love you earlier. This afternoon. In the hallway like that, it wasn’t the time or place I would’ve chosen, but…” He gave a low chuckle that she could feel reverberating through his chest. “Wouldn’t have wanted tonight to be the first time I said it, in case you thought it was just because of what we were doin’. Never thought this’d be how tonight would end up, though.”

She could hear more of the Brooklyn bleeding into his voice, and she wondered if it was because he was relaxed, or because he was tired, or maybe just because she’d offered him dinner and fooling around and it had landed up with both of them coming twice and it wasn’t even ten p.m. yet. “Any complaints?” she joked.

“Not a fuckin’ one.”

Darcy wasn’t sure when she’d drifted off – they’d just stayed like that, cuddling and talking a little bit – but her phone on the bedside table read four-thirty-two in the morning when she jolted awake. Bucky’s left arm was still snaked between her pillow and the mattress, and maybe he’d moved it, maybe that was what had woken her up. They hadn’t even turned the lamp off, and in the low light she could see that he was asleep, but his face was twisted up like he was in pain. He was mumbling something that she couldn’t make out. “Bucky, it’s okay,” she said, keeping her voice low. He’d mentioned that he had nightmares, said that he was afraid of hurting her if she was near him when it happened, and she wondered if this had been part of why she’d caught him perched on the end of the bed earlier like he’d been thinking about leaving.

He didn’t seem like he was imminently about to get physical, though, and she hated to see him obviously suffering. She repeated his name, just a little louder, and laid a hand lightly on his chest.

“Darcy,” he replied, voice thick, still clearly asleep.

“You’re safe, Bucky.” She tried to think what she’d want, if she was having a bad dream – what she _had_ wanted, when things got bad for a while after that Convergence bullshit. “You’re safe. You’re in my bed. I’m here.”

“Darcy?” And then he said it again, seeming like he might be waking up. “Darcy?” His eyes opened, looking terrified for just a split second before he blinked and then looked at her properly. “Sweetheart. You’re okay?”

“Are _you_ okay?” She pushed some of his hair back off his face, feeling that he’d broken out into a cold sweat. “Think you were having a bad dream.”

Bucky jerked up like he meant to sit upright, but his left arm was still under her; she moved out of the way, not wanting him to feel trapped in case he wasn’t as awake as she thought. “Fuck. Did I…?” He was looking around the room in a way that made her wonder if he was panicking, but then he spoke again. “I didn’t… break anything? I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. You hardly moved, just mumbled a little.” She tucked the sheet in front of her as she sat up: not that she was embarrassed, but maybe he didn’t need too many distractions right that minute. “Do you want a drink of water or anything?”

“Yeah, I… let me just…” Pushing himself up, he looked around the room once more, then headed to the bathroom. When he returned a couple of minutes later, his hair was pushed back, a little damp, like he’d splashed a lot of water on his face. “Are you sure…?”

Darcy flipped the sheet back and straightened up the pillows, making an effort not to ogle him when he was clearly still pulling himself together. “Get in here. Are you better with touch, or no touch, after one of those? I know when I used to get nightmares, after London, I always wanted somebody to wrap me up like a burrito. Crawled into bed with Jane a couple of times, like I was five,” she added, with a bit of a laugh. “But I know some people go the other way.”

“I… I don’t know. Never had anybody this close to me before.”

She swore if she listened hard enough, she could hear her heart shattering for him at that, and it was all she could do not to squeeze him tight and never let go. But she knew it might be the completely wrong play, so she waited for him to think about it. “Closest thing was the first night here,” he added, after a long silence. “Guess I must’ve been shouting… Steve busted in, and I kinda punched him in the face.”

“You punched your bestie in the face?”

“Kinda. Not really. I don’t remember _any_ of it, just what Stevie told me in the morning. Don’t know if I was still asleep enough that I didn’t get a real hit in, or if he just said that to make me feel better. He heals up so fast, there’s no telling.”

“So… that sounds like _no_ touch right now, then?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I… I’m not sayin’ that. I could actually maybe… what was that thing you said, the burrito?”

“Used to try and wrap myself up like a mummy, with blankets. But that was all I could do, sleeping alone. I’ve got a better idea.” She nudged him to roll over, onto his side, and she snuggled in to be the big spoon behind him. Their size difference made it a bit comical, but she could feel some of the tension leaking out of him as she slid one arm under his pillow and wrapped the other one round him, holding him tight. “FRIDAY, lights off.”

The room went dark, apart from a little moonlight from the window, and she felt him relax a little more. “Thank you, doll.”

“Hey, I’m the one who just gained the world’s greatest body pillow here,” she joked, keeping her voice soft. “Nothing to thank me for.” And then she couldn’t help a laugh at the mental image that popped into her head. “I’m guessing this was _not_ Steve’s anti-nightmare strategy.”

Bucky’s chest shook with a silent chuckle. “I wouldn’t be thanking _him_ for this, sweetheart.”

Laughter was good. She wanted to keep him in a lighter frame of mind till he got back to sleep. “He probably just did the Eyebrows of Disapproval, I bet.”

That made him laugh for real. “He swears he doesn’t do that, but see, you’ve known him for two weeks and you’ve already got him figured out.”

“He’s probably doing the Eyebrows in his sleep right now, just sensing that we’re having this conversation.”

“Probably.” Bucky picked up her hand, kissed it, and settled it back on his chest, laying his own hand over it. “Seems like you just know how everybody ticks, sweetheart. Least I feel like you’ve been looking out for me since the day I walked in here, even though you had no reason to.”

“Well, I don’t have superpowers or awesome spy training or a genius brain or anything, so I’ve gotta be good at _something_ so I’m not just baggage underfoot,” she replied. “Observation, people skills, and baking: that’s my resume, pretty much. How I win friends and influence people.”

He shook his head. “Darcy. You’re a lot more than that, and you know it.”

“True. Observation, people skills, baking, and a fantastic rack. Can’t forget that.”

She wasn’t sure how he did it, when one second she’d been holding him so tight, but in some kind of fluid motion he flipped around to face her, then rolled onto his back, bringing her along so that she was half on the bed, half sprawled over him. “And a hell of a lot more. But I kinda hope that last one is just for me, now?”

Tilting her head, she kissed the sharp, scruffy line of his jaw. “Definitely. Only for you.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a final chapter count!

The sun was already up by the time Bucky left Darcy’s building the next morning, but it was still early enough that nobody was around. Or at least, so he thought, until he came in the front door of Building A. The whole place smelled of pancakes and syrup and coffee, and he could hear Steve singing along – a little off-key – to some song that was playing. A few more steps and he found himself face-to-face with Sam and Natasha, sitting at the bar counter with identical smirks on their faces.

Steve still had his back turned, flipping pancakes and singing. The whole thing was far too chipper and wholesome for a damn Monday morning, and Bucky couldn’t help feeling like he’d walked into some kind of a trap. “I’d have Al Jolson sing I’m…” Turning around, Steve cut himself off halfway through the line he was singing. “Hey, Buck. You go for an early run or something?”

“Or a late one,” Natasha said quietly, then hid her smile by taking a sip of coffee.

Wilson, the bastard, actually broke out into a full-on laugh. “Oh god, Cap, you actually meant that, didn’t you?”

“What?” Steve frowned, looking like he was waiting for somebody to let him in on the joke.

“What we are _witnessing_ here,” Sam replied, looking like the damn Cheshire Cat, “is our friend Barnes doing the actual, honest to god, Walk of Shame. Don’t think I can’t see you’re still in the same pants you were wearing last night, man. Happy for you.”

Steve blinked. “Wait. You were…?”

“To hell with all of you,” Bucky replied, but he couldn’t quite keep a straight face as he stalked past them to his room to take a shower.

By the time he emerged, Steve and Nat had gone, but Sam was standing at the counter, looking like he’d been hanging back on purpose. “Saved you some pancakes, man. Don’t think they’re stone cold yet.”

“Thanks.” Bucky pulled out a barstool and sat down, waiting for the inevitable.

Instead, Sam gave him a half-smile and took a deep breath. “Sorry about giving you a hard time there. It’s nobody’s business.”

Bucky shrugged. Truth was, part of him had kind of liked it, liked the faint echo of his younger days when once in a while he’d been the envy of half the guys on the block. “’S okay. Just don’t want anybody getting the wrong idea about Darcy because of it.”

“Nah, nobody’s thinking that, I promise you. This isn’t even that quick a hook-up, these days. I mean, not that I’m calling it a hook-up, man,” Sam added. “I know it ain’t like that.”

Though he was still catching up with twenty-first century slang, he assumed a ‘hook-up’ meant something like a one-night stand, and he was glad Sam had added the disclaimer. “Definitely not like that.”

By the time he and Sam were halfway to the main building, Bucky’s phone pinged with a text and he pulled it out of his pocket, expecting that it might be from Darcy. It was not. It was from Nick Fury: _Hearing starts next Monday in DC. Legal team needs you in the conference room five minutes ago._

After four solid hours with the lawyers, and then another two and a half hours in a strategy meeting about the revised Sokovia Accords with the rest of the team, having woken up in Darcy’s bed that morning was starting to feel like a distant memory. When they finally broke for lunch – midway through the afternoon – he pulled out his phone and caught up with the handful of texts she’d sent him. _Sorry I’ve been MIA, doll. Meetings all morning._

Her reply was almost immediate. _You okay?_

_Starving but alright. Any chance you got a minute?_

It showed three dots for a few seconds. _I do if you don’t mind coming by the lab. Jane needs me to monitor something for a couple hours while she sets up equipment on the roof and I just need to be here in case anything beeps. You can totally eat in here, that’s fine._

That was all he needed to hear; grabbing some sandwiches and a couple of sodas, he made his way to the lab end of the building and juggled the food to scan his hand and open the door. “Oh my god, you _are_ starving,” Darcy laughed, as he started setting the sandwiches down.

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah. And I’ve got a stash of chocolate in here in case all that’s not enough. I know the whole superhero metabolism thing. Now come here and give me a kiss, and then you can catch me up on stuff while you eat.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice: extending a hand to help her stand up from her chair, he pulled her close and kissed her thoroughly, then rested his forehead on hers and sighed.

“Sounds like it’s been a day already. You sure everything’s okay?”

“I… Honestly, I don’t even know what it is,” he replied, hooking his foot around a spare chair to pull it closer so he could sit.

“Eat,” she reminded him, leaning in to kiss his forehead before she pulled up her own chair. “So, you look like there’s a grey cloud circling. And your day started pretty well, if I do say so myself, so…?”

“Doll,” he began, then finished his mouthful of ham and cheese so he could talk properly. “My day started out the best any day has for me since at _least_ nineteen-forty, probably ever. Don’t sell yourself short.” And though she smiled at that, she was still raising an eyebrow, waiting for his actual answer. “Next Monday. The hearing. It’s next Monday.”

“Oh, Bucky.” She got out of her chair and draped her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing his temple. “I mean, we all knew it was coming sooner or later, but shit just got real, huh?”

“That pretty much sums it up.” He rehashed the key details for her, in between bites of sandwich, feeling secretly relieved that she kept on hugging him through the description.

“I want to be there. Can I be there?”

He shook his head. “Wish like hell you could. But it’s gonna be a madhouse. And it’d put a huge target on your back. Come here, sweetheart.” Setting his food aside, he pulled her around to perch on his lap. “They say it’ll only be three or four days, but fuck, I just want it over with.”

“I’m still one hundred per cent serious about joining you in Wakanda for Plan B. But Plan A’s going to work.”

After having gone over it six ways from Sunday with the lawyers, he had to admit he was feeling less pessimistic, but he knew all too well that even the simplest mission could blow up in one’s face. “I’ll believe it when I see it. But… there’s something else. Small thing, compared to the rest of it, but…”

Darcy frowned at him, brow furrowed and eyes huge. “What is it?”

"Shit, I made that sound worse than it is. It’s… They want to cut my hair. Look less like the Soldier, more like the guy in your history books.”

“Oh.” She lifted her hand and ran it through his hair, playing with it a little. “How do you feel about that?”

He leaned into her touch as she ran her nails lightly over his scalp, and wondered if she’d still do that if his hair was short. “I… mixed feelings, I guess? Part of me wants to chop it off, wanted to for a while. This was never me, I just didn’t trust anybody to cut it. Thought I might flash back. And then part of me… I’m not sure what it’d feel like, to look in the mirror and see something like what I used to look like. Feel like I’d be looking at a ghost. But I see their point, about looking more cleaned-up.”

Darcy nodded, and moved her hand down to hold his. “Well. I notice that none of that included you feeling attached to the long hair. And you don’t have to have it exactly like you did back in the day; you could get something short and tidy that’s a little more modern, if you want. I guess the big question is, are you comfortable enough to have it done?”

“I think so. Would you… would you mind being there? Stark’s got some barber who’ll come here, Natasha’s gonna run background on them, but I just… I’d feel better talkin’ to you and not looking in the mirror till it’s done.”

“Oh geez, talking to you and looking at your hot face? What a hardship,” she joked. “I was…” Before she could finish her thought, an alarm went off, making them both jump. “Shit. Beeping. Sorry, I need to capture this data.” She wheeled her chair back to the nearest computer and started typing something out. “Give me, like, ninety seconds.”

Bucky finished the last of his food while she worked; it took more like five minutes, and he was just beginning to feel guilty for hanging around getting in her way when she spun back around to face him. “Sorry. So when do they want to cut your hair? I was gonna say I could do it, but I’m sure anybody who cuts Tony Stark’s hair is way better than me.”

“Seems like you’re full of hidden talents, sweetheart.”

“As you found out last night,” she replied, waggling her eyebrows at him and looking like she was having a hard time not bursting out laughing. “But seriously… a couple of my aunts are hairstylists. I worked in their salon in high school, mostly answering phones and sweeping up and stuff, but they kinda taught me along the way, enough that I could do haircuts for friends in college, keep myself in beer money. So, you know, if Stark’s guy gets beamed off to space or something, I can be your fallback.”

Laughing, he curled his hand around the back of her skull and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’ll keep you posted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the transition from long hair to FATWS-style short hair is coming.
> 
> Also - Steve was singing along to "I'm On My Way", by the Proclaimers. My headcanon of that was oddly one of the first pieces of this fic that dropped into my mind, back when I was still working on my last fic series. (And yes, because I'm old, I had that album before they used the song in Shrek...) It just feels very Steve.


	35. Chapter 35

“So what kind of haircut is he going to go for?” Jane soldered the final two bits of wire together and sat back, rubbing her forehead and leaving a smudge behind.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be checking if your detector thingy actually works, instead of worrying about whether our boyfriends are going to have matching hairstyles?” In truth, she was used to the way Jane sometimes wanted to chatter about trivial things when she was working on machinery, but the fact that Jane didn’t rise to the bait about Thor being her boyfriend meant that she really _was_ concentrating on the circuitry she was putting together. They were both up on the roof of the main building, Darcy now holding a flashlight on Jane’s work as the sun started to go down. “I mean, not that Thor isn’t rocking the short hair look. Did it freak him out, getting it all chopped off?”

“Way he described it, it sounded like an elderly Edward Scissorhands, so I’m thinking yes,” Jane replied, bending back over the bits and pieces she was working on. “Alright, this should be the last… yes!” A series of tiny LEDs started to light up as the apparatus finally came to life. “Do you think Barnes is going to freak out about his hair?”

Lowering the flashlight, Darcy rubbed her shoulder with her free hand. “I think it’s just… it’s an identity thing, you know? Like his old self. Mixed feelings.”

“First time you look at his new hair with those exploding heart eyes of yours, he’ll be fine.”

“I do _not_ …” Darcy spluttered a bit, then relented. “Okay, yeah. He totally does bring out the cartoon explodey heart eyes in me. Speaking of which, we don’t need to babysit this thing the whole night now that it’s working, do we?” The fact that Bucky hadn’t texted or come looking for her since he’d dropped by the lab for lunch hours earlier probably meant he was still stuck in meetings, but she was hoping to have time to shower before she caught up with him. Hours on the roof in the August sun had left her wilted, to put it politely.

“No, no. If we can just keep an eye on it till the readings start to…”

Jane startled visibly before finishing her sentence, and Darcy turned to see Natasha approaching from the stairwell, looking around the roof with a frown on her face. “Darcy. Barnes isn’t here, I take it?”

“No, I thought he was with the legal people, or with you guys.”

Natasha shook her head. “We wrapped up an hour and a half ago. Figured he was probably going to come and track you down.”

“Go find your guy,” Jane said. “I can deal with this.”

“Did you ask FRIDAY where he was?” Darcy asked, already heading for the stairs.

“The system’s designed with _some_ privacy protections," Natasha replied. "If he’s in his quarters, he’s not answering the door or his phone. Would he be at your place?” 

Thinking about it for a second, Darcy shook her head. Appealing as the idea was, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t yet feel comfortable to just make himself at home in her room when she wasn’t there. “Did… was there anything that was going wrong in your sessions this afternoon?”

Natasha shook her head as they descended the staircase. “No. Lots of legalese, but smooth.”

So, probably not down by the river crushing another phone. But Darcy wasn’t an idiot: there was clearly _something_ up if Romanoff was determined to track him down. “Gun range, maybe?” If he knew she was up on the roof with Jane, maybe he’d wanted to kill time rather than disturb them.

“Good call. Let’s go check.”

_Somebody_ was definitely at the range: Darcy could hear it as they approached. From the vestibule, she could see that it was Bucky and Sam. Natasha tapped her elbow and handed her a pair of earmuffs, then put a pair on herself and opened the door into the indoor range.

Darcy had never been a fan of guns, but she had to admit there was something fascinating about watching Bucky use one. Or maybe she was just gooey enough over the guy that anything he did was hot. Either way, she briefly forgot that they’d come with a purpose until Sam glanced over and saw them standing there. “You shooting?” he asked, when there was a moment of silence after Bucky lowered his weapon.

Natasha shook her head as Bucky turned around, his face going through what looked like four different moods in about a quarter of a second. “What is it?” he asked.

“Stark’s hair guy,” she replied, as both Bucky and Sam set their guns down. “He’s Hydra.”

Sam said “What the hell?” at the same time that Darcy blurted out “Seriously?”, but Bucky just looked resigned. “What’d you find?” he asked.

“Money trail, mainly, and links to that chatter that’s been going around. He may not even know it’s Hydra pulling the strings, but seems like somebody has been making his gambling debts go away in exchange for what would probably seem like trivial info to a civilian, just gossip about Stark and what’s connected to him. He’d been cutting Tony’s hair for so long, I don’t think anyone dug too far into him before.”

“Well, shit,” Darcy managed. “Good thing you did. Are you guys gonna, like, take him down or something?”

“We can’t do much, not till we’re all back in the good books.” From the way Sam said it, Darcy wondered if he was stating a fact, or giving Bucky and Nat a reminder.

Natasha waved it off. “I’ve passed it to Sharon Carter at the CIA. She’ll handle it. But you didn’t have any contact with the guy, did you?”

Bucky shook his head. “Stark was gonna set it up.” And then he sighed, and met Darcy’s gaze for the first real time since they’d walked in. “Guess it’s a good thing I’ve got a backup, huh?”

“What about this one?” Darcy pulled up another example picture on her phone and flopped down on the couch next to him. After listening in on Bucky, Nat and Sam dissecting the Hydra barber situation for a while at the range, she’d eventually insisted on them moving the conversation back to her building so that she could at least sit somewhere comfortable. Two hours, a large stack of grilled cheese sandwiches, a passing offer from Thor to hit the hair guy with lightning, and a lot of spy talk later, she finally had Bucky to herself.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I trust you.”

“Hey. Move up.” She slid a hand behind his back to nudge him to sit further forward on the couch; when he did so, she ran her hands up his spine and began to massage the back of his neck. “Is this okay?”

She didn’t have especially strong hands, and between muscle and tension he was a bit like a brick wall, but when she pressed her thumbs up to the base of his skull she felt him start to unwind just a tiny bit. “Mmmm. Very okay. I’m sorry I’m not very good company tonight, sweetheart.”

Reaching up, she traced round the backs of his ears, over his temples and around his skull, then repeated the motion. “You’re not here for my entertainment, Bucky. And given everything that’s been packed into your day, I’d say you’re excellent company right now. But like I said last night: if you need some time, if you need to just chill and process all this shit, you don’t have to…”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m right where I want to be.” He gave a sigh as she moved her hands back down to knead at the knots in his shoulders. “This time next week I’ll be in DC, and who the hell knows how that’s all going to play out. Best case scenario, then at some point I’ll be going out on missions with the team. Worst case, I…”

“If it comes to that, then I’m hiding in your suitcase and smuggling myself into Wakanda,” she butted in. “Or getting Thor to beam us off somewhere. But I’m pretty confident that DC is going to be an unnecessarily pain-in-the-ass ordeal that’s going to wind up with you right back here.”

“Hope you’re right.” He grabbed her right hand and pulled it off his shoulder so he could kiss her palm. “But what I was gonna say is… even so, there’s gonna be times where I might be away for days, maybe weeks. Or called out at odd hours, or who knows. And I know your hands are full with Jane, and Stark, and everything. So… any time I get with you… I want to take it.”

Leaning forward a little, she kissed the side of his neck. “Likewise.”


	36. Chapter 36

The next few days were something like a whirlwind, but Bucky did spend just about every spare minute with Darcy – sometimes in her bed, sometimes sharing meals or watching movies or sitting on the roof watching the stars. It felt more than a little surreal, the juxtaposition of falling in love so hard it made him dizzy, while at the same time he was preparing for his life and freedom and future to be judged. There was always a little voice in the back of his head warning him, _enjoy this now while it lasts,_ unable to believe that the United States government would simply let him walk away at the end of the hearings.

On Saturday morning – less than forty-eight hours to go before he had to step on a quinjet and head to DC – Darcy finally had the right tools in hand to deal with his hair. “C’mon, let’s do this at your place,” she said, tucking the scissors and clippers and her hairdryer into a tote bag. “That way you can wash your hair first, then shower again and change if I get loose hairs all down the back of your neck or whatever.” Although he hadn’t slept in his own bed in almost a week, he’d still been using his room to shower and change. Darcy hadn’t asked why, hadn’t pushed the issue, but there was a part of him that felt like he’d be pushing his luck, leaving any imprint on her space that suggested he had a future there – even something as small as a bar of his soap in her bathroom, or a spare shirt on her wardrobe shelf – until he knew for sure where his future would be allowed to unfold.

He realized as he opened his door that Darcy hadn’t even _seen_ his room, but she simply glanced around at his few possessions – apart from his bag and gun case on the floor and a couple of things in the bathroom, the place looked practically untouched – and pulled a chair out of the corner. “I’d offer to keep you company in the shower,” she said, with that grin of hers that he loved so much. “But maybe that’s better for after, otherwise we might never get to the haircut.”

“Sauce.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip and leaned down to kiss her, but the nerves started to creep in as he stepped into the shower and let the water pour over him. Since he’d escaped Hydra’s clutches, there’d been countless times he’d wanted his long mess of hair gone, even thought once or twice about just shaving it all off – but now it just felt like a giant reminder of the hearings breathing down his throat. Still, he had to get it over with. Toweling himself off roughly afterwards, he threw his t-shirt and boxers back on, but left his pants on the bathroom floor.

Darcy seemed to sense his change of mood, and didn’t make any cheeky comments when he came out, just stroked her fingertips over his scalp for a minute or two before she draped a towel round his shoulders and laid all the tools out where he could see them. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Just…”

“Take it slow, I know. I’m not good enough at this to go any other speed, trust me. I’m going to just cut a bunch of the length off first, then I’ll start tidying it up, okay?” When he nodded, she got to work. He didn’t want to distract her, so he just concentrated on breathing – four counts in, four counts hold, four counts out, repeat, like he’d learned in Wakanda – and on little details like the scent of Darcy’s perfume, and trying to identify the songs she was humming to herself.

Sooner than he expected, she set the scissors down and picked up the clippers. “I’m almost done, just going to tidy up the back and stuff. Are you okay with me using these?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Funnily enough, it was feeling the buzz of the clippers against the back of his neck that sucked him into his memories, but it was nothing about Hydra: for a second he was back at basic, a fresh army recruit getting his hair buzzed down to regulation length. Just a scared kid, really, despite the fact that he’d been well into his twenties at the time. It was only a flash, but it was vivid; who knew his brain even still had those details filed somewhere? By the time he blinked and came back to the present, Darcy was taking the towel off his shoulders and using a corner of it to brush off the back of his neck.

“Hang on, don’t go look yet, I just want to put a bit of stuff in it.” She showed him a small jar of pomade, that looked like it was _trying_ to look like something from his day and not quite making it. “You don’t need to, but it’ll just…” Without finishing her thought, she rubbed a little of the pomade onto her fingers and ran them through his hair.

“Feels like you’re messing it up,” he said.

Darcy laughed. “That’s because it’s twenty-eighteen and not nineteen-forty. Alright, let me just make sure I got this right…” She took a couple of steps back. “Holy fucking hell.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to read the look on her face. “What is it?”

“I just…” Taking a deep breath in, mouth open, she blinked at him a couple of times. “I did not think you could _possibly_ get any hotter than you already were, but I was wrong. So wrong. Oh my god. Do you, uh, want to take a look in the mirror and see what you think, while I heroically resist stripping my clothes off and pouncing on you?”

He’d been dreading the first moment of seeing his new reflection – had kept looking in mirrors to a bare minimum since he’d been free of Hydra, to be honest – but Darcy’s reaction made it easier to stand up and move over to the bathroom to see the results of her handiwork. Flicking on the light, he squared himself up to the mirror and raised his eyes to his own face.

The Soldier was gone. Even though he’d wanted the long hair gone because he hadn’t chosen it for himself, even though it was a small thing compared to having the triggers taken out of his mind, he hadn’t truly realized how significant it was going to feel to see a different reflection. What was the word Wilson had used? Closure. This felt like getting a bit more of that.

Darcy hadn’t turned him into a carbon copy of his old self, either. Close enough that he recognized the man in the mirror, but not so close that he felt like the clock had turned back, and he was glad of it. He turned to one side, then the other, running a hand over his skull, getting used to the feel of it.

And then she wrapped her arms around his torso from behind. “I’m hoping this is good?” she asked.

Swiveling in her arms, he leaned back against the vanity. “You did a good job, sweetheart. This is… I’m glad _you_ did it, instead of some barber, even if he had been clean.”

Though he could see the heat in her eyes, her hands were gentle as she ran them up and down his back. “Do you need some time to process? Get used to your new supermodel look?”

Bucky couldn’t help a laugh, and then was kind of surprised at himself for being able to laugh so easily after the way he’d been dreading the whole experience. But that was Darcy: she was kind of magic that way. “And what if I don’t need time to process?”

Her face broke into a grin that was absolutely filthy, and she came up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “You look so fucking hot,” she murmured, against his mouth. “It’s like… I can see all of you now. I can’t handle it. Can we just… spend the rest of the weekend in bed? Or, you know, on the floor… up against the wall…”

“Fuck, you know how to make me feel good,” he sighed. He meant it in every possible way: his body was responding to her nearness and her words and the taste of her mouth, but it was just as much her effect on his heart and his mind, the way she was gentle with his wounded edges without ever making him feel like less of a man for it. And then she slid her hand down his body and all the sentimental thoughts flew out of his head as she palmed him through his boxers till he couldn’t help bucking his hips against her hand.

“What if I want to make you feel _really_ good?” she replied, practically purring the words against his jaw. “Like, really super extra good.”

With one hand on his cock and the other on his hip, she guided him to turn around, pushing him up against the opposite wall rather than the counter. His brain a little hazy, he wondered why the change – and then Darcy sank down to her knees on the bathmat. “Jesus, sweetheart. I…” When she pushed his waistband down and pulled his cock free, giving it a slow stroke, she rendered him speechless. And then she ran her tongue around the head of his cock and he felt his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Watch me,” she said, then repeated it. “Watch me, Bucky.” After he opened his eyes and fixed them on her, she very deliberately took him into her mouth, with a little hum that sounded like pleasure and sure as hell _felt_ like it. And watching her: it was like every goddamn wet dream he’d ever had in his younger life rolled into one. Between the feel of her hand and her mouth working him and the sight of it… and when he realized he could see the whole thing reflected in the mirror, that she’d _planned_ it like that, he knew she was going to take him apart in no time.

“Darcy… fuck…” She was stroking him and sucking and tracing patterns with her tongue, and every time he thought it couldn’t possibly get any better she’d wind him up a little more, changing up her rhythm, keeping it just unpredictable enough that he felt like he was balancing on a highwire. His legs were shaking; he flailed his arm out to the side for something to steady himself with and nearly pulled the towel rack out of the wall. The thought _how am I gonna explain if I wreck a room from my girl going down on me?_ skittered across his mind and made his next words come out almost as a laugh. “I can’t… I’m gonna…”

He didn’t even know if he was trying to warn her, but Darcy just looked up to meet his eyes, and then her tongue found a spot that made his brain scream _fuckyesdon’tstoprightthererightthere_ until the echo in the room made him realize the words were actually spilling out of his mouth, a second before he was spilling into Darcy’s mouth, the release feeling like it was thrumming through every nerve ending in his body. “Oh god, sweetheart, love. Oh god. Fuck.” As he slid down the wall into a boneless heap on the floor, he knew he was babbling and he didn’t give a damn. “C’mere.”

She went willingly into his arms, sighing as he caught her in a kiss, but after a minute or two she laughed and got to her feet, holding out a hand to him. “I am loving _everything_ about this except the hard bathroom floor part. Shall we move this to the bed? Yours or mine, I’m not fussy.”

“Hmmm.” Limbs loose, he considered the options – though the truth was, he didn’t mind much either way. “Mine’s closer, but yours is nicer.”

Darcy laughed, reaching up to pet the newly-short hair at the back of his skull as he stood up. “I knew you loved my eight million pillows.”

Actually, he did. Darcy’s bed was unabashedly set up for maximum creature comfort, and the feeling of drifting off surrounded by plush bedding and fluffy pillows was an unfamiliar but undeniable pleasure. “Mostly love who’s _in_ the bed, but you’re not wrong,” he told her. “Wasn’t planning to go back to sleep any time soon, though.”

“We haven’t tried out _your_ bed yet,” she countered, starting to nudge him in that direction.

He was ready to let her do it, till something occurred to him. “No condoms here, though. Sorry,” he added, feeling a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I know I oughta be the one getting them.”

“Well, that settles it. Lots of condoms at my place. And don’t worry about it. For one thing, I’m a grown-ass woman and have no problems with looking after stuff. For another thing…” Darcy bit her lip, looking like she was debating something. “I was going to wait and surprise you later, but we’re not going to need them much longer. I’ve got an appointment Tuesday to get myself hooked up with some lower-maintenance birth control. By the time you get back from DC, I’ll be good to go.”

“Jesus.” His brain touched down for half a second on the prospect of feeling her for real, skin to skin, nothing in between them – and then was completely thrown by what it _really_ meant. The fact that she was looking at a future beyond the next couple of days and she saw him in it. “You’re making plans.”

Darcy blinked at him. “Is that… okay?”

There was a note of uncertainty in her voice that made him wrap her up in his arms. “Okay? God, sweetheart, that’s gotta be the best thing I ever heard. I just…”

“And in the very, very unlikely event that anything goes sour,” she added, putting a finger over his mouth to stop him talking, “I figured it made sense to get this sorted out. I mean, I’m sure Wakanda wouldn’t be a problem, but I would _not_ want to take my chances with what the contraceptive options might be on other planets, if Thor had to beam us off to Vanaheim or wherever. Because whatever happens, my plans involve _you_. And a whole lot of sex. But mostly you.”

Bucky had to swallow hard against the wave of emotion that threatened to spill over. “You’ve got me, Darcy. For as long as you’ll have me. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Coming up on her tiptoes again, she kissed him, soft and sweet. “Now let’s get on with that ‘whole lot of sex’ part.”


	37. Chapter 37

Even though she’d spent a few days getting her head around the idea that Bucky was going to have short hair – and even though she’d been the one to cut it – Darcy found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. At least until they stepped out of his quarters and into the common room and ran into a suspiciously red-faced Steve Rogers. “Hey, Buck. The, um, haircut looks good. Hi, Darcy.”

He said all of it without quite looking either of them in the face, but it was only seeing Bucky looking like he was fighting off a smile that made Darcy remember about super-soldier hearing. Bucky had said once that he often overheard Steve and Natasha – and Bucky had _not_ been quiet in the least while she’d had her mouth on him in his echoey little bathroom. “Hi Steve,” she replied, in her absolute perkiest voice, as she slid one arm around Bucky’s waist. “Hope we didn’t scandalize anybody, but I’m definitely putting that in the ‘sorry, not sorry’ file, because honestly, just _look_ at this guy.” She could feel a silent chuckle running through Bucky’s chest, and Steve was only getting redder, so she carried on. “Text if anything blows up, but otherwise Bucky and I are going to be very, very busy the rest of today. And probably all of tomorrow. Bye!”

When they got outside, Bucky shook his head, laughing. “You’re really something, doll.”

“Was it too much? Steve just looked like he was dying of embarrassment and I couldn’t resist. I would’ve been tempted to be _really_ over-the-top about it, except I didn’t want to actually kill Captain America before noon on a weekend.”

“That was perfect. I could see him wanting to give me a hard time, but there’s no way he would’ve even _suggested_ anything like that in front of you.” Raising an eyebrow, he grinned at her. “What would you have said, if you were gonna be ‘really over the top’?”

“Well, I don’t think Steve is ready to hear me say ‘now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take my boyfriend back to my room and screw his brains out for the rest of the weekend’. But I was thinking it.”

That made him laugh for real, enough that it took him several seconds to catch his breath and reply to her. “You’re right, you might’ve given poor Stevie an aneurysm, but I’m imagining the look on his face… I kinda wish you had. Serve him right, after some of the things I had to overhear with them.”

Darcy shook her head. “I figured I don’t know Steve well enough yet to really troll him that hard, but good to know for future reference. I’d totally say that to Jane, though, and she wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She’d probably just propose an experiment about super-soldier stamina. You know, for science. Speaking of which,” she added. “I have a hypothesis that we’re going to use up the whole supply of condoms at my place by Monday morning.”

Bucky laughed again, though there was a hint of colour in his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. “Thought you said there were lots.”

“Oh, there _are._ You up for a challenge?”

When he wrapped his arms around her from behind and grazed his teeth over her earlobe, she suddenly wondered if she’d even make it to her front door. “Always, doll.”

A few hours and a respectable dent into the condom supply later, they were tangled up lazily in her bed trading slow kisses. “ _Fuck_ , you’re so hot with short hair,” she told him. “I mean, you always were, but damn, I can’t even handle you right now.” Everything about him looked like a goddamn work of art: perfectly sex-messed-up hair, five o’clock shadow, soft eyes, softer smile, the dusting of hair on his chest leading down to where the sheet covered his lower half. The sheet that was doing approximately nothing to hide the fact that his super-soldier stamina was starting to perk up yet again. “God, I want a picture of all this.”

Bucky grinned at her, but his expression turned to alarm when she actually reached for her phone. “Doll, you’re not really gonna…?” Words trailing off, he waved at himself, and more pointedly at her bare chest as she sat up. “I don’t think…”

“Don’t panic, gorgeous. From the neck up only.” Leaning in, she switched to selfie mode and carefully angled the camera to just show their faces, then smacked a kiss to his cheek as she snapped the photo. “I mean, I think we look sexy as hell together, but I don’t care how high the security is, technology and nudes are a dangerous combo.”

He sighed, visibly relaxing again. “Good. Don’t need anybody else getting themself off to pictures of my girl.”

“Just you, huh?”

His teeth dragged over his lower lip for a second. “Just me. Now lemme see that picture you took.”

Pulling it up, she set it as her lock screen image before she passed the phone over. It was a little goofy, but sweet and hot and honestly a pretty good shot of both of them. “First photo of us together,” she mused. “You don’t hate it, do you?”

He shook his head, a little smile on his face as he looked at the image. “Don’t know if I’m ever gonna love a picture of myself, but this is maybe as close as I could hope to get. And besides,” he added, the smile broadening. “It’s proof that there’s a beautiful woman who doesn’t mind kissing me, and who _might_ not be wearin’ any clothes. Gonna send it to myself.”

After a couple of seconds, he put her phone on the bedside table, then tugged the sheet down till it was completely off her. “Mmmm. _Definitely_ not wearin’ any clothes.”

“You sound more Brooklyn when you’re turned on.” The sheet still covered him from the hips down, but the contour of his erection was obvious. “Now, what’s this rumour I hear about you getting off to pictures of me?”

“Only pictures I have are up here,” he said, tapping his temple. “But yeah. Almost since the first time I saw you.”

She kicked the sheet the rest of the way off the bed. “Oh really? Very naughty of you, Sergeant Barnes. Let me see.”

Looking like he’d been about to reach for her, Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open a little. “What?”

“I want to watch you. I want to see how you look, bringing yourself off.”

“ _Jesus_.” His expression looked like equal parts shock and lust for a second, but the latter clearly won out, and he shifted position to lean back against the pillows as he wrapped his right hand around the base of his cock, giving a couple of slow strokes before meeting her gaze. She could see the moment where he started to get into it more, his eyes drifting half-closed as his hand worked faster, a little rougher with himself than Darcy was with him, his legs drifting further apart as he started bucking his hips against his hand.

She wanted to see him finish, but it was too delicious a sight to keep just watching and not touching: sliding in closer to his big warm body, she ran a hand up his inner thigh, then cupped his balls, her fingers stroking just behind them and making him gasp. “This good?”

A moan was her only answer at first, but then he nodded, all the tendons on his neck standing out in sharp relief. “Harder.”

Pressing down a little more, she dragged a completely filthy sound out of him, and then he was coming: ropes of it all over his chest and stomach and hand. “I’m going to remember that trick,” she said, stroking back down his now-trembling thighs. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

“Don’t think I could if I tried,” he said, closing his eyes and giving a breathless sort of laugh.

She came back with a warm washcloth so that he could clean himself up. “Should we make ourselves decent long enough to grab some dinner, do you think? Given that we kind of missed lunch.”

Bucky looked like he was about to say no, but his stomach gave an audible rumble and they both broke out laughing. “Maybe just long enough for dinner,” he conceded. “But after that, we’re going to have a very serious talk about how _you_ were taking care of yourself, before you started inviting me into your bed.”

“We are, are we?” she asked, grabbing her discarded clothes and throwing them back on carelessly, as he stepped into his jeans without bothering with underwear. She waited till he’d put on his shirt as well before adding, “Because that might be a long conversation. With toys, or without?”

“You.” He reeled her in so quickly she might have lost her balance if he hadn’t been there to catch her. “You are going to be the death of me,” he continued, shaking his head. “But at least I’ll die happy.”

“Yeah, but not yet,” she countered, breathing in the smell of sweat and sex and _Bucky._ “I’ve still got lots of plans for you.”

He kissed the top of her head, then gave her a gentle, barely-there swat to her ass. “Likewise.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's ready - the next few chapters have a lot of feels.

The alarm was set for six on Monday morning, but Bucky woke just after four-thirty and knew that there was no way he was getting back to sleep. He knew the plans inside and out at this point: what evidence was being brought forward, who was going to testify, who was sitting on the panel that was going to decide where his life went from here, and the legal team’s educated guess about what kinds of questions the panel was going to ask him – once it got round to his turn to speak on his own behalf, which wasn’t going to be till probably the third day, maybe the fourth. He had a pretty good idea that he’d likely get sequestered away in between hearing sessions: quite possibly in a cell, though he hadn’t mentioned that suspicion to Darcy. And though he was less pessimistic about his chances than he’d been when they’d first left Wakanda, he sure as hell didn’t think the outcome was automatically going to swing his way.

They’d put together about as solid a case as he could have hoped for, and he had a lot of heavy hitters backing him up. Besides the legal team, he was going to have Steve, Sam, Natasha, Thor, Maria Hill, and – though he still had trouble believing it – Tony Stark coming along to Washington to say their piece. T’Challa and Shuri were coming from Wakanda, along with Dr. N’Bara, the psychologist who’d worked with Bucky during his time there. Whether that was going to be enough… it remained to be seen.

Outside the window, the sky was moving from black to deep blue, and the birds were starting to sing at the first hints of dawn. Though the room was still dim, he had no trouble making out the details of Darcy’s sleeping form: her hair disarrayed over the pillows, her bare shoulder peeking out of the covers, one of her arms flung across his chest as she lay facing him on her side. He wanted to stroke her face, wanted to pick up her little hand and kiss it, but they’d both resisted sleep for so long the night before; she should rest a little longer. Three days, maybe four, they’d said the hearing would probably take. Would he be able to wake up like this again by Thursday or Friday morning? And if not… could he possibly let himself take her up on her offer to walk away from her life and go into exile with him – or would he leave her to come back to this bed alone? Fuck, he hated both those options.

If he’d still been the Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn, he might have prayed. These days, he wasn’t sure he had a right to expect God to take his calls – wasn’t sure He existed, or at least not the way he’d been taught back then anyhow. Instead, he found himself thinking of his mother, of the way she used to sit up with him as a kid, any time he’d been weighed down with worry, from monsters under the bed to exams at school to whether or not his best friend would make it through another bout of pneumonia. She’d sat up with him, too, that last night at home before he shipped out. Even heading out to war, he hadn’t wanted to use the word ‘scared’, but he didn’t see the point in dissembling now.

_Don’t know if you’re out there, Ma, but I’m feeling a little scared about what’s coming next_ , he thought, looking out to the predawn sky again. _I’d say I didn’t much care what happened to me, but it’d be a lie. Finally found… I found everything. A chance to maybe help, maybe make up for everything I’ve done, maybe do some good in the world. Chance to keep watching Steve’s back like I always used to. And a chance, maybe, to…_ He took a deep breath, feeling like he didn’t dare shape _that_ hope yet, even in his own head. _I love her_ , he thought instead. _I know if you’re looking, you probably want to smack me across the face, being here like this when I’ve only known her a few weeks, when I haven’t put a ring on her finger. But I love her so much, Ma. And she loves me back. I…_ He had to stop for a second and take a breath, before the traitorous quiver in his lower lip turned into anything. _If you’ve got any pull with anybody up there, just please… let me come back to her._

There was still a quarter-hour to go before the alarm when Darcy started to stir. “Should’ve known you’d be awake,” she said, her voice still slow and sleepy. A second later, she sat up, stretching her arms over her head before shifting to rest her cheek on his shoulder. “I’d ask how you’re doing, but it feels like kind of a dumbass question.”

“’S okay. I like that you still ask.” Now that she was awake, he could touch her; draping his right arm around her shoulders, he pulled her a little closer and took a long inhale, as if he could keep her scent with him for the next few days. “I know you actually care about the answer. Just been thinking over how it’s all gonna go. Glad I’ve got a lot of people in my corner, at least.”

“Including me. Even if I can’t literally be in the room, or probably even text you or anything.”

“ _Especially_ you, sweetheart.”

Darcy sighed at that, and moved her hand a little so that it was over his heart. “Can we just… stay like this a little longer?”

“Yeah.” He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, we can.”

Too soon, though, it was time to get moving. Darcy came back to his own room with him and perched on the end of his bed while he showered and changed into respectable clothes, an unfamiliar pair of black pants and a light blue dress shirt that fit him perfectly, metal arm and all. “You take my measurements while I was sleeping, or something?” he asked, trying for a joke.

Darcy humoured him with a half-smile. “You think I don’t know your body? Actually, I had FRIDAY scan your jeans and one of your long-sleeved shirts. It’s working for you, though.” Coming up close, she took over, doing up the last couple of buttons for him and smoothing her hands over his shoulders. “Makes those blue eyes pop like crazy. Maybe when this is all over and you’re not grounded to the compound any more, you can wear this again and take me out for a date.”

“Doll, if this all works out, I’ll take you anywhere you want and wear anything you like. For a real date.”

“Picnic on the roof was a real date too.” She looked at him like she was daring him to argue the point, and it made him want to tell her about eighty more times that he loved her. But then there was a quiet rap at the door, and Steve’s voice in the hall, asking if he was ready.

“No,” he said quietly, just for Darcy to hear. “But I guess we’d better get this show on the road, huh?”

She twined her right hand with his left. “Guess so.”

It seemed like everybody was outside the hangar, even the ones who weren’t going to Washington; a bunch of different people shook his hand and wished him good luck. Jane surprised him – and looked like she surprised herself a little – by putting a hand on his forearm when Darcy was distracted for a second. “I know we haven’t really… talked, much, but I hope it all goes well. And as much as I’d hate to lose the only person who’s ever understood the way I work – if for whatever reason you have to be… somewhere else after all this, you better make sure that Darcy can come with you. Don’t you _dare_ break her heart. I know a little something about how it feels when somebody just disappears on you.”

He didn’t know what to say back to that, or what assurances he could possibly give, but he was saved by Thor swooping in at Jane’s other side. “Let’s let Barnes get out of this circus for a moment and say goodbye to Darcy, hm?”

“I mean it,” Jane said, pointing at Bucky as Thor led her away. “Don’t you do it.”

“What was that?” Darcy asked, putting her hand on the small of his back and leaning in.

Bucky shook his head. “Your friend Jane’s version of a shovel talk, I guess.” The well-wishers were starting to drift back inside, and everybody else was making their way up the ramp onto the quinjet. “I’ve got to go, sweetheart.”

“I know. C’mere.” Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss, and he tried to pour everything into it: gratitude and nerves and hope and love. He wanted to memorize every detail, to stamp the moment so perfectly that even his erased-a-hundred-times-over brain couldn’t lose a second of it. “I love you so much, Bucky. And I’m with you, whatever happens.”

“I know, doll. I love you.”

He kissed her once more, and would have stepped away to board the jet, but she tugged on his wrist. “Wait… I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” he replied, though he wondered what he could possibly do in the dwindling seconds before he had to get on that plane.

“Mark me.”

“ _What?”_

“I… that sounded bad. I mean… it’s stupid, but…” She tugged her shirt a little, so it sagged off one shoulder and bared her neck and collarbone. “Just… kiss me so it shows. Then by the time it fades, you’ll have to be back.”

It was the last thing he’d expected her to ask, but there was a tremor in her voice like she was fighting back tears, and there was no way he was going to tell her no. “You’re one of a kind, sweetheart, you know that?”

“I try.” And then she gave a little gasp as he opened his mouth against her, just where her neck sloped into her shoulder, sucking a kiss onto her like he was trying to drink her in. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he repeated, brushing his fingers against the spot, already coming up red against her pale skin.

“You’re gonna give me another one of these, when this one fades.”

And somehow, _that_ was the moment when he knew for sure, knew that wherever he wound up, there was no way he could leave her behind. “I promise.”


	39. Chapter 39

“We’re here in Washington, where crowds have gathered this morning outside what’s been dubbed the ‘Winter Soldier Hearings’, where a commission will hear evidence for and against James Buchanan Barnes, formerly a Hydra agent known by the code name Winter Soldier, who has been at the top of Interpol’s watch list since his identity was confirmed in twenty-fourteen…”

“Are they not televising the whole proceedings?” Jane asked, interrupting the newscaster on the screen.

Darcy shook her head and hugged the big cushion a little closer, unable to take her eyes off the TV. “No. They said officially that the information is sensitive, but all the news people are saying it’s because the testimony will be too gruesome, and I guarantee that’s absolutely the reason.”

“I mean, the stuff you guys leaked doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it gets worse. Bucky wouldn’t let us leak any of the video or audio – wouldn’t let _me_ see it – but they’ll be showing it there.”

Jane gave a huff of breath. “This is so much bullshit. He shouldn’t have to sit there and go through it all again. Oh! Is this live?”

“Yeah.” Darcy clapped a hand over her mouth and watched as the broadcast shifted from the commentator’s face to a series of black SUVs pulling up to the curb.

“It appears Barnes may be arriving now. He’s being accompanied by several of the Avengers – including some who had not signed the Sokovia Accords up till now – as well as a delegation from Wakanda. And – yes, it appears in fact to be Wakanda’s King T’Challa, along with his sister Princess Shuri, and members of the Wakandan royal guard. Considering the events of two years ago, where Barnes was accused and later exonerated in the terrorist bombing that killed T’Challa’s father T’Chaka, many have been surprised by the outspoken support that Wakanda has had for Barnes…”

It felt like a sick kind of version of a red carpet commentary, as the talking heads breathlessly relayed the arrivals of Thor, Tony, Maria Hill, and Natasha. There was a long pause before any doors opened on the final vehicle, but finally she could see Sam and Steve get out, both of them in suits. “And now we’re seeing the first glimpse of Barnes,” the reporter announced, with the crowd noise escalating behind her. “Flanked by Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, both of whom fought Barnes here in Washington four years ago, and who have not appeared publicly since fleeing the US after their refusal to sign the Sokovia accords in twenty-sixteen. Barnes looks quite different to the image of the Winter Soldier that we’ve seen before; no doubt this is a move to align with his former persona, familiar in history books as one of Captain America’s Howling Commandos in the Second World War…”

“He’s just himself!” Darcy yelled at the TV. “Former persona my ass. He looks okay, right?” The shot was zoomed in, but it was hard to read his expression.

Jane slid a little closer and put a hand on Darcy’s arm. “About as well as can be expected. You know Thor will bust him out of there if anything goes wrong.”

“I know.” Darcy nodded. “I just… this _has_ to go right. He deserves to actually have his name cleared.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

Jane kept Darcy company in front of the TV for hours. In a strange role-reversal, she even made sandwiches for the both of them, and reminded Darcy to drink enough water. “Thanks for not leaving me alone with this,” Darcy said, as the talking heads droned on about the backgrounds of the various people sitting on the panel – mostly from the National Security Council and Homeland Security, though there were observers from the UN and Interpol as well. “Fuck, I wish they’d say something _useful.”_ Since the arrival of all the key participants, the news had mostly been talking about Bucky’s record – both for and against the US, as they put it – and about the public reactions leading up to the hearings. Around midday, there had been details from inside, but nothing earth-shattering, mostly just that opening statements had been made. The order of proceedings was something that Bucky had already familiarized her with, after his many meetings with the legal team, and nobody expected that it would vary much; the main variable was how long each bit was going to take, and of course what kinds of questions the committee would ask. What she really wanted was to hear from somebody who was there. There was almost no chance that Bucky would be allowed to get in touch with her, or anybody else, till it was all over, but she hoped that _somebody_ would check in soon.

“Hey, what’s this?” Jane asked, as the feed zoomed in on activity outside the building. “Are they done for the day?”

Darcy spared a quick glance at her phone to see the time: nearly six PM. “Must be.” She had no other comment to offer as she watched security clear a path through the crowds; a minute or two later she saw Tony and Maria come out, their heads bent together in conversation, followed by Thor, who looked grim. After another long pause she saw Nat, Sam and Steve make their way slowly down the steps to a waiting vehicle – though Steve turned to take a look back at the building.

She hadn’t really expected to see Bucky walk out. She’d known that they’d almost certainly keep him in some kind of secure facility – hopefully not a cell, but god knew she’d woken up in the dead of night picturing it all too vividly. But she hadn’t realized till right that minute how much she’d hoped to see another glimpse of him, and somehow that was what cracked her after the long, emotional day. “Fuck,” she muttered, then had to put a hand to her mouth as a sob bubbled up.

“Oh, honey.” Jane grabbed a blanket off the other couch and wrapped it round Darcy’s shoulders, like the way she’d done years before, and like Darcy had done for her, when they’d both been a bit broken after London.

“It’s… it’s just…” Swallowing hard, Darcy waited a minute till she felt like she could choke some words out. “Feels like he’s a million miles away and I can’t _do_ anything.” Some unhelpful part of her brain pointed out that Jane had had to spend years where Thor was _literally_ millions of miles away, and that managed to just make her feel that little bit worse for no good reason. “How am I gonna get through more days of this?”

Thankfully, Jane knew better than to comment, just held her hand while the commentators droned on about how evidence would begin to be presented the next day. If they weren’t even looking at evidence yet – all those boxes of Hydra horrors that had come back from Siberia – how the hell long was it all going to take? Pulling the blanket more tightly around herself, Darcy tried to imagine where Bucky might be, how he must be feeling in the midst of it all. If she held her breath and turned off the scientific side of her mind, she could imagine being able to send him a touch or a word or some good luck through the ether – wished she really had that power.

“We should turn this off,” Jane said eventually. “If the session’s done for today, you’re not going to get anything else out of watching, except making yourself feel even worse. Are you ready to switch it off?”

“FRIDAY, please turn off the TV,” Darcy said, feeling the words sticking in her throat. “Fuck, maybe I should have just come in to work today. I know watching it’s not helping, especially when they’re not actually _showing_ any of it, but…”

Jane pushed herself up off the couch and started gathering up all the detritus of the day: dishes and coffee cups and tissues, mostly. “I know I usually feel better when I’m working, but it’s up to you. See how you feel tomorrow. If you need to watch more of this, or if you just want to sleep all day or whatever, that’s fine too.”

About to say that she wished she could just sleep through the whole thing and wake up when it was done, Darcy remembered something that left her unsure whether to laugh or cry. “Shit. And first thing tomorrow morning I’m supposed to see the doctor here, to get back on birth control.”

“Well, at least that’s something productive that’ll take up part of your day?”

“I just…” She sighed. “This is so stupid, but I feel like… I hope I’m not jinxing things? It’s dumb. I know it’s dumb.”

Jane dropped the dishes into the sink, none too carefully from the sounds of things. “You’re right. That is stupid. Because you’re going with him wherever, right?” she added, when Darcy looked up at her. “I mean, unless it’s only in upstate New York that you need birth control and you’re totally fine with him knocking you up in Wakanda or on Vanaheim or Alfheim or wherever. I mean, you two _would_ have cute kids, but… maybe a little soon?”

That did tip Darcy over the edge into wet, shaky laughter. Jane was right: birth control was going to be needed anywhere, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let Bucky get exiled anywhere without her if this whole thing went south. “You’re right, Janey. This is a show of confidence that this _will_ be over eventually and I _will_ be sexing him up like there’s no tomorrow. Fuck,” she sighed, shaking her head. “A month ago we were in Norway and look at this now. I’m glad you get me on the whole ‘fall hard and fast for a complicated superhero dude’ thing, at least.”

“All too well. Now come on, you should probably have something else to eat, and drink some water. Dehydration is not going to make any of this any better.”

“I’ve taught you well, boss lady.” Darcy was just about to make a weak joke about Pop-Tarts when her phone rang, making her heart stop for a second before she was able to react and dive for it. Steve’s name was displayed.

“Steve?” She almost fumbled the phone. “How is he? _Where_ is he?”

She could hear Steve take a breath. It was quiet in the background; he must be out of the SUV and at his hotel or wherever he was staying. “They’re keeping him in a holding facility.”

“Jail? That better not mean ‘jail’, Steve.”

“Not jail,” he replied, before she heard Sam’s voice saying something in the background that sounded suspiciously like ‘nice jail’. “It’s… they wouldn’t let me see it, but the lawyers gave me the rundown. He’s not… he’s not free to leave, but it’s a room, not a cell.”

_So ‘nice jail’, then. Or a fucking psych ward._ But she didn’t have the energy to argue semantics with Steve – and she figured he was probably also doing his best to keep a positive spin on it, both for her sake and his own. “How was he? Were they really just doing opening legal shit _all day_? How long do you think it’s gonna take? Sorry. Too many questions.”

“Darcy, it’s okay. I’d be asking all the same things myself. The lawyers are still saying probably four days total, maybe five, so I guess they expected it’d take a while to get things rolling. I kinda find it hard to believe, given that I’ve known people who did jury duty for weeks for way simpler charges than what they could bring against Buck, but…” He sighed. “Bucky, he was… I don’t know, I guess ‘stoic’ is the word. Just had to sit there and listen to it all, since it was all the lawyers setting up his case. Didn’t get to talk to him again once we got there and they took him in, but on the way here he was okay. I mean, under the circumstances.” There was a pause. “It’s not that he doesn’t want you here, Darcy.”

“I know.” She really did. She knew he was trying to keep her safe, and that it was just about the only thing that was within his control with the whole situation, so she hadn’t pushed it. “I’ll see him soon. Wherever this winds up.”

“He told me what you said, that you’d go to Wakanda with him if he had to.” Steve’s voice was softer. “I know he and I missed about seventy years of each other’s lives, but still, I’ve known him since I was a kid, and I’ve never seen him look like that about anybody. He loves you a whole lot, Darcy.”

It was a weak, watery sort of smile, but it was her first one since Bucky had walked onto the quinjet several hours before. “I know.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a legal/political/governmental expert, nor am I an American, so please excuse any wild liberties taken in the name of artistic license here. I've somewhat used my own experience of serving jury duty to get the general feel of things, but I'm sure some details are off.

After three solid days of having all the worst moments of his life displayed and replayed and analyzed and explained, and three nights trying to catch some small fraction of sleep in the tiny locked room he’d been provided, Bucky was numb. Numbness had been an asset so far, but now, on the fourth morning of the hearings, he was trying to sharpen himself up, to pull his head together before the moment inevitably came when he was going to have to speak on his own account.

“More coffee?”

It was one of the legal assistants who asked; there’d been a rotating group of them who’d been assigned to the small conference room where the security guards took him for meals and breaks. Bucky didn’t have much appetite, but he was trying to get something resembling breakfast down. “Yeah, thanks.” He imagined all the bit players being interviewed later: the assistants, the court clerks, the security guards. _The Winter Soldier? He was polite, quiet. Ate plain toasted bagels every morning._ He kept imagining how it would all be reported to the outside world; the only part he didn’t let him think too hard on was what they were going to report about the outcome. So far, it didn’t seem like anything was going dramatically sideways, but he had no real idea of whether or not any of it was going _well._ The lawyers seemed pleased enough, or at least not displeased, but then he supposed that they were going to get paid however it all came out.

Walking into the hearing room once again, Bucky was aware of them all there: the people in his corner. His friends. It felt odd to expand that term to encompass Thor and Hill, who he barely knew, or Stark, who’d done his level best to kill him two years earlier, but the vehemence with which they’d stood up to argue his case had taken him by surprise. He didn’t let himself meet their gaze – wouldn’t have been able to bear it if they were wearing their emotions on their sleeve, like he knew Steve would be. Instead, he picked a spot on the table where the committee sat, a neutral point where he could put his attention as they called him to the stand, because he sure as hell didn’t want to start trying to read _their_ expressions too closely just yet.

The chair of the commission let the room hang silent for a full minute before he began. “Sergeant Barnes. We have heard and seen a great deal these past few days, regarding the circumstances under which you became part of Hydra, your treatment by its members, your work on Hydra’s behalf, how you left, and your actions since that time. At this juncture, we have a number of questions for you.”

Bucky nodded, then put his hand on the bible that a clerk offered and swore to tell the truth, so help him God. He could hear a rustling of whispers as he made his oath; probably too quiet for anyone without enhanced hearing to have picked out at from across the huge room, but it made him wonder if the reporters and onlookers were shocked to hear him speak at all. He supposed he couldn’t entirely blame them if his reputation and history and the torrent of horrific evidence had turned him into something of a ghost in their minds.

_The public are starting to see you as human_ , the lead lawyer had said after Darcy and Natasha had set the initial leaks free into the world. _We need to get that same message across to the committee in the hearings – and if the public is onside to pressure them, so much the better._ Bucky had no way of knowing where public opinion was at since the hearings had started, or how human anyone on the panel thought he was – apart from Everett Ross, who had seemed at their previous meeting to not be actively hostile, at least. But for the next several hours, he let them crack him open with their questions, answered as honestly as his imperfect memory would allow him, and just hoped to hell that he wasn’t signing his own death warrant.

Apart from a short meal break, the session wore on all day. By six PM, Bucky was beginning to wonder if they were planning to carry on into the night, or maybe resume in the morning and keep on interrogating him for another whole day. It seemed like each member of the panel had their own completely separate concerns, their questions bouncing from one subject and point in his history to another with no discernible rhyme or reason or pattern, leaving him without any idea of how far into the proceedings they might be. Part of his brain was beginning to get that surreal feeling that perhaps in fact he had always been in this room, and perhaps he always would be; it was the outside world that seemed almost fictional at this point.

But after what felt like the five hundredth question – and at least the third time of explaining every excruciating detail of how it had felt to be hooked up to that fucking electroshock apparatus – there was a long, weighty pause. Bucky chanced a real look at the panel and saw them glancing one to another, some of them shuffling papers, before the chair spoke up, announcing that the session would be adjourned for the panel to deliberate and make recommendations.

This time, there was no hiding the wave of whispering that went round the room, as reporters started hustling out the door and the lawyers stood – as did the security officers – to escort Bucky back out of the room. Under the cover of the general noise, he heard his name, low enough so as not to attract anyone else’s attention: turning just a fraction, he saw Steve staring at him with a pained, tense sort of smile, but it was Sam who’d spoken. “You got this, man,” he added in the same low tone, giving just a fraction of a nod as Bucky was led past.

Back in the windowless meeting room, he grabbed a bottle of water off the table and drank the whole thing down, his throat feeling scratchy after the hours on the stand since lunch. Slumping into the nearest chair, he just resisted the urge to lay his head down on the table and shut his eyes: the rush of voices between the lawyers and their aides felt like a tidal wave washing over him and his muscles were aching from the lack of movement. “What now?” he finally managed to ask, once the assistants had been dispatched to order some sandwiches.

The lawyers looked to each other before one of them – Bucky had lost track of most of their names – answered. “We wait,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “You did great in there, this all went according to plan, but it’s always hard to say how long something like this will take, regardless of whether it’s a jury or a panel. And of course in this case, as you know, they’re also hashing out a course of action rather than a straight verdict.” Reaching for a bottle of water as well, she sighed, and shifted into a softer tone. “I wish I could tell you how long, or a sense of what they’ll come back with, or even whether it’ll be later tonight or sometime into tomorrow.”

“The public is swinging heavily in your favour, for what it’s worth.” This lawyer’s name – James – had been easy to remember. “They obviously don’t determine what happens in that room, but the commission – and President Ellis – aren’t blind to the fact that the people need to have the Avengers back as a functioning team. In fact…”

James trailed off and pulled out a cloth to clean his glasses, but his head was cocked towards the wall, where a window would have been if the room had any. Any time they’d been in this room, there’d been a dull roar of city noise in the background, heavily muffled through the wall; Bucky had paid it no mind, but now that his attention was being drawn to it, he was aware there was a cadence that hadn’t been present before. Voices were chanting something. There was no way the lawyers could possibly be hearing it clearly – presumably they knew from the news or something – but as the room fell silent around him, Bucky picked out the refrain: _Let him go. Let him go._

“That’s about me?” It wasn’t like there was anybody else it was likely to be about, and he knew that the whole point of the information leaks had been to state his case to the public – and like the legal team said, it might not have any bearing on what the suits in charge decided to do with him – but it was still a little hard to believe that there was a mob outside on his account for a _good_ reason.

“This isn’t the only place,” James replied. “Strictly speaking, I probably shouldn’t be disclosing that,” he added, after one of the more senior lawyers shot him a look. “But I think there’s reason for optimism.”

After that, all he could do was wait. He’d sat through all the Hydra videos, all the details on how fucked-up his brain had been and how far Shuri had been able to repair it, all the questioning on everything from his memories of assassinating Kennedy to Zola’s first experiments on him at Azzano to his under-the-table loading dock job in Bucharest and his time herding goats in Wakanda, and now it was done, but it wasn’t done at all. Not yet.

He tried to picture Darcy, what she might be doing, how she was handling all this from a couple hundred miles away. Given the chance, she probably would’ve been leading the chanting crowds outside; he hoped the crowds were being shown on the news, because it might make her smile. He wondered if she was confidently planning a welcome-home for him, or if she was sitting with a go bag packed. Knowing her, she probably had both ready. He wondered if she’d been sleeping, if she’d managed to get any work done while all this was happening. Whether she was angry with him for keeping her benched at the compound while Steve and the rest of them had at least been in the room. Whether that love-bite had faded, the one she’d asked him to mark her with, just before he’d stepped onto the jet. Whether he was going to be able to fulfill his promise to her, to give her another one. T’Challa had promised Bucky, in the scant couple of minutes they’d had to talk, on the DC airstrip, that Darcy would be welcome to join him in Wakanda if he needed to take sanctuary there again. And Thor was never far from his axe, for all he hadn’t been allowed to bring it anywhere near the hearings. There were routes of escape, if it came to it, and ways that he and Darcy could still be together, but if the United States government wasn’t willing to let him go…

By ten PM, it seemed like the lawyers were just about to conclude that it was time for the guards to move Bucky back to his shitty little room for another night, when a knock came at the door. “They’re ready for you.”

Everyone in the room started putting suit jackets back on and straightening ties, while all Bucky could do was try to breathe through the spike of adrenaline before it got the better of him. Four counts in, four counts hold, four counts out, as he got to his feet and followed the now-familiar back corridor towards the hearing room.

A low current of voices died away as Bucky moved back towards the stand and watched the panel members file back into the room. Once again, he didn’t dare look to the benches at the side, didn’t dare seek out any of the familiar faces that he knew would be there, but he could feel the weight of a whole lot of pairs of eyes on him as the commission chair opened a slim paper file and cleared his throat.

“Sergeant Barnes. There is no question that you spent the larger part of your life in the service of Hydra, a terrorist organization, and that under their direction you carried out a long list of assassinations, including that of President Kennedy.” There was a pause that was probably only a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. “You are enhanced in ways that make you extremely dangerous.” Another horrid, gaping, black hole of a pause. “However. The opinion of this commission is that the evidence presented before this hearing, corroborated by multiple sources and supported by experts in the psychological field, does show that your treatment at the hands of the Hydra organization rendered you incapable of correctly judging the nature, quality and consequences of your actions, and thus not criminally responsible for your actions. Order, please,” he added, giving a stern look around the room as some whispering broke out. “You have indicated your willingness to sign the revised Sokovia Accords, which would commit you to abiding by the oversight of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division; is this correct?”

Bucky forced his voice out of his dry throat. “Yes.” It was the right question, a good sign, but he wasn’t ready to start counting his chickens yet.

The chair nodded. “Given the facts presented at these hearings, the assurances given by the Wakandan government and by the enhanced individuals popularly known as the Avengers, legal precedent in the case of United States vs. Barton, and in consultation with the United Nations, Interpol, and the World Security Council, the decision of this commission is to grant you immunity for your past actions as a Hydra operative, subject to a number of conditions. _Order, please._ ” It took longer this time for the room to quiet down, but Bucky could scarcely hear anything apart from the chairman’s voice and the pounding of his own pulse against his eardrums. “The first is your signing of, and adherence to, the new Sokovia Accords. We will also require that you meet regularly with a mental health care team that will report to SHIELD on your progress, without disclosing details of sessions, and that you undergo psychological assessments twice annually for a minimum of three years. Further, we will require that for a minimum of one year, you reside on the premises of the Avengers compound, with a SHIELD liaison aware of your whereabouts when leaving the facility, and that you do not leave the United States unless pre-cleared by SHIELD for official operations of the Avengers Initiative. Finally, we will require your cooperation, should it be requested, in consulting with federal or international law enforcement agencies with respect to your experience with Hydra. Are these conditions acceptable to you? You may speak to your legal counsel before replying.”

“Yes. Yes, that’s acceptable.” Bucky didn’t even look sideways at the lawyers or anyone else, just stood straight and looked the chairman in the eye and hoped that disbelief wasn’t written all over his face. In all the meetings leading up to the hearings, and all the breaks during them, the lawyers had presented a million different possible outcomes. But this – this was pretty damn near the best-case scenario.

The chair nodded. “We will adjourn to chambers, to finalize the agreement reached here.”

Bucky thought he was going to be sent back to the windowless room again, but instead he was led down a different hallway, into what looked like a large boardroom. This one had windows facing out onto the city lights, and the chairman was standing at the table, flanked by the session clerk, a bunch of lawyers, and a few of the commission members, including Everett Ross, who was waiting closer to the door and extended a hand to Bucky as he stepped in. “Congratulations.”

Shaking Ross’s hand was the first human contact Bucky had had in days, and somehow that was the moment it started to feel real: at some point soon, he was going to be walking out of this place a free man. “Thanks.”

The chair cleared his throat. “We do need your signature on a number of documents, before any celebrations commence. And no doubt you’re ready to get this over with, Sergeant. So…” He slid several files across the table, and Bucky’s lawyers took seats and started looking them over, before passing each one to him with an explanation of what exactly they entailed. Most of them were only a few pages long, though he recognized the thick bound volume as the Sokovia Accords; the legal team had already been over it and initialed each clause to confirm that it was the same revision that Steve and Nat and everyone else had already agreed to in principle, so as far as Bucky was concerned, it was just the last in a long line of things to scrawl his rarely-used signature on: _James Buchanan Barnes._

“What next?” he asked, when the flow of papers in front of him came to an end.

“Next, I’ll say congratulations as well,” the chair replied. “And thank you for your service. Not many people could have held out for nearly a decade under the sort of treatment that you were subjected to, or been capable of breaking that conditioning and living for two years without incident without any professional assistance or mental health support. I’ll ask the security officer to remove your tracking anklet, the court clerk will be back shortly with your personal effects, and SHIELD Director Hill will join us momentarily, to escort you back to the Avengers compound and go over next steps. I…” He was interrupted by a great surge in the noise from outside the building. “It would seem that the news is out,” he said, glancing towards the windows. “Do you have any further questions for me?”

Bucky could only shake his head. “No. No questions.”

“You’ve been handed a rare opportunity, Sergeant Barnes. I hope you’ll do the right thing with it.”

“I will.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a time overlap with the last chapter (which was posted earlier today - make sure you read it first!).

It seemed like each day of the hearings, somebody new had come to watch the coverage with Darcy. By Thursday evening, when the news reports went out that the commission had heard Bucky’s testimony and adjourned to deliberate, she had Jane and Pepper flanking her on the couch, and Bruce, Rhodey, Wanda and Vision filling up the rest of the seats in the common room. The coverage was alternating between hashing out details of what had been asked and answered, speculating on the various options that the commission might decide upon, and flashing to live feeds of crowds outside the hearings and watching on big screens in Times Square and other major cities. “Fuck, I hope he can hear that,” Darcy mused, as it showed the crowd in Washington chanting in unison for Bucky’s release.

“Given the enhanced hearing that Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers share, it is likely that he would be able to discern that, depending on where inside the building he is currently located,” Vision replied, then looked at Wanda when she nudged him. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I realize that was meant to be a rhetorical comment.”

“No worries, dude.” It was an automatic response, and she realized the irony as she said it, given that she couldn’t remember when she’d last had quite this many worries. They all seemed to be gathering in her gut and giving her the warring impulses to puke, or to stuff herself with comfort foods. “Fuck. I need to do something for a minute. Scream for me if there is _any_ news.”

In her own room, Darcy checked her duffel bag for probably the hundredth time. She’d packed it on the second day of the hearings and fuck, she _hoped_ it was unnecessary, but it had everything she’d need if she had to make a quick exit and follow Bucky somewhere. And then she stripped off her top and replaced it with one of Bucky’s t-shirts; she’d liberated it from his laundry hamper on Saturday morning when she’d cut his hair, and she’d been using it to sleep in, but fuck it, she was going to wear it now and people could think what they wanted.

Pepper gave her a knowing look when she returned to the common room. “I think I just about went through Tony’s whole wardrobe while he was stranded in space,” she said quietly. “Hopefully you can give this one back to Bucky soon.”

Darcy didn’t miss the fact that Pepper had said _Bucky,_ and hadn’t just called him by his last name like everyone else usually did. Like the newscasters were doing. “Thanks.”

As the evening wore on, she was torn between appreciating everyone’s presence, and wishing she was alone so she could just cry, or scream into a pillow, or throw something. Every day of the hearing had felt interminable, but this waiting was the absolute worst. _I can do this_ , she told herself, chewing on her thumbnail. _Pepper ran a company while her guy was lost in space. Jane does science with or without Thor. Wanda actually saw Vision die and had to wait to see if they could bring him back. I can wait a bit longer for this. Half an hour. In half an hour, I can kick something, and then I’ll wait some more._

Another half an hour came and went without news, but when the newscasters started talking about the late hour and speculating that a decision would not come till the next day, she really did climb over the back of the couch and kick the first thing she found that didn’t seem like it would break her toes – Bruce’s sneakers, that he’d taken off and left neatly lined up near the front door. “Motherfucker! Fucking decide something, for fuck’s sakes!” She kicked the other shoe for good measure, then felt like an ass and put them back where Bruce had left them. “God. Fuck. I’m sorry, guys.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bruce said. “I know better than anybody that sometimes it’s good to find an outlet before you snap.”

“Do you want a cup of tea, Darcy?” Wanda asked.

Jane made a face. “Or a shot of tequila?”

They were all trying so hard to be kind and helpful and none of it _helped_ , and Darcy wished she could cry but the tears wouldn’t come. “I… I don’t know. I just…” And then the TV switched back to the live feed of the reporter standing outside the hearing. “Shit. Shit. Everybody be quiet,” she said, waving a hand although she’d been the only one talking.

“I’m just hearing that they’ve been called back in,” the reporter was saying. “It sounds like the commission may have reached a decision, and we’ll report in just as soon as we hear the details from inside.”

“Shit,” Darcy repeated, coming back to the couch and sitting down, her hands clutched together in front of her face. “Here it goes.” _Oh please, oh please, let this work out. I know I’ve never done the religion thing but if anybody’s out there, just please. He has suffered so goddamn much, just let him have this._

She thought an answer would come any second, and as the minutes dragged on she felt increasingly sick with worry. “Give it a few more minutes, Darcy,” Rhodey advised, furrowing his brow as he looked over to her. “These things take longer to wrap up than on TV shows.”

Finally, after maybe fifteen minutes – though it felt like hours – the shot cut back to the reporter, who looked wide-eyed, her words coming faster than they had before. “Phil, we can now report that Barnes has been granted conditional immunity…” She kept talking on the screen, but in Building B of the Avengers compound her words were suddenly drowned out by a chorus of shouts and shrieks.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Darcy felt the full-body shakes setting in. “Wait, wait, what does that mean? Shh, I want to hear the details.” The room went silent again as the feed switched to a bullet-point list of the conditions for Bucky’s immunity: signing the new Accords, psych assessments, living on the compound, cooperation with intel agencies about Hydra.

“That’s not bad,” Rhodey said.

“That’s _excellent_ ,” Pepper replied.

Jane patted Darcy’s hand, tactfully not looking too directly at the tears that were now freely flowing down Darcy’s cheeks. “It’s done, Darce. They got it done.”

“It’s not done till he’s back here. Will they let him go tonight? Is he actually free? Is he leaving? Nobody’s saying that.” She was sure there must be paperwork to sign, legal shit to deal with, but fuck, she wanted to see him or hear his voice or even just get a confirmation from someone she knew who’d been there in the hearing room.

As if she’d conjured it up, her phone lit up with a text notification, then another, and another. “Oh god.” With her hands trembling, it took her three tries before she could unlock the damn phone to see the messages.

“Steve says they’ve taken Bucky back to ‘finalize the agreement’,” she read out. “That’s gotta mean paperwork, right?” She clicked over to the next message. “Sam says the same, pretty much. He thinks they’ll let him go tonight.” The third one was from Tony, and she had to take a second to gather herself up to relay it to the group. “Oh wow. Tony says ‘your man will be coming home soon, you’re going to need a proper place to spare everyone else from how sickeningly in love you two are since we’re stuck with him on the compound for a year’ and he says he’s going to reno the upstairs floor here to make a proper apartment instead of a room.”

Jane grinned at her. “Hey, can Thor and I get in on a deal like that, if he’s knocking out walls anyhow?”

“Hey, text him yourself,” Darcy replied, though she wasn’t yet able to put much sass into it. She managed to type out quick replies to the texts, thanking them all for the update, and then she sank back against the cushions, just trying to steady her breathing while she waited.

And then finally, finally, at about a quarter past eleven, her phone actually rang. “It’s him, it’s him,” she said aloud, fresh tears erupting as she clicked to answer. “Bucky?”

It was really him: she knew as soon as she heard him inhale. “Sweetheart. God, it’s good to hear your voice.” His voice sounded a bit raspy, like he’d either been talking too much or not using it enough.

“I…” There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but she didn’t quite trust herself not to fall into outright sobs. “Is it done? Are you coming home?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s done. We’ll be back soon, doll. Just heading to the airstrip now. Should be back around midnight.”

It suddenly hit her that she was in his sweaty old shirt and she couldn’t remember when she’d last taken a shower. “Oh god, I’m a mess,” she replied, feeling a little unhinged as she laughed.

“I don’t mind, I just want to see you. Probably not at my best right now either,” he added, then sighed. “So many things I want to say right now, but maybe not when I’m in the backseat of a car with all these idiots. Yeah, that includes you, Rogers,” she heard him say, a little away from the phone, with a couple of offended-sounding exclamations in the background and the rumble of Thor’s laughter. _Must be a big car_ was the irrelevant thought that flickered across her mind before Bucky spoke to her again. “I love you, Darcy. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you too,” she replied – aware that behind her, half the room had just made some kind of ‘awww’ sound. “See you at the landing pad.”

A little reluctantly, she rang off, then let out a shriek that felt like it had been bottled up for days, because it had. “Fucking finally. God. Alright, everybody,” she added, looking around the room. “I love you all, and I’m a little overwhelmed at how awesome you all are and I owe you all bigtime for getting me through this. But I have a sudden and _very_ urgent appointment with a quick shower and a change of clothes, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“Go,” Wanda said, standing up from the couch. “Vision and I will clear up here.” With one hand and a glow of red light, she started directing dirty dishes over to the sink, while with her other hand she shooed Darcy away. “Go on.”

After possibly the quickest shower and change in history, Darcy was the first to the landing pad, scanning the dark horizon for signs of the quinjet as she carded her fingers through her still-damp hair, trying to encourage it to behave. By the time she saw lights approaching, everyone else had turned up to join her, and Pepper had brought a couple of bottles of champagne and a sleeve of disposable paper cups. “Sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” she declared, passing the empty cups around as they watched the jet touch down.

Darcy bit her lip and shook her head when Jane offered her a cup; she was going to need both her hands free. It seemed like time slowed to a crawl as the landing ramp opened, but then finally, finally, she saw a familiar set of boots and a second later Bucky was the first one out, looking like he didn’t even see anybody else but Darcy standing there.

And then he was finally _right there_ and wrapping his arms tight around her, and when he bent his head down to her shoulder she thought that maybe he just needed to collapse and rest – until she felt his mouth on her neck, sucking at her skin and sending a jolt of raw need right down her spine. “Oh god,” she gasped, not even caring that everyone was watching. “Talk about an entrance.”

He raised his head a little, and she could already feel the throb of blood that was definitely going to turn into a hickey. “I promised,” he said, his mouth brushing her ear. “Promised I’d be back to give you another one. So fucking glad I didn’t make a liar of myself.”

It was true that she’d checked every day to see if his first mark was still visible, but she hadn’t expected for a second that he’d remember her weird little impulse from when he’d left. “Needed to make sure you had a reason to come home,” she replied, laughing for real now that he was really, truly back.

“Got lots of reasons for that, sweetheart. How soon do you think we can get away from all these nice people so I can show you?”

Curving her hand round the back of his neck, she pulled him down so she could kiss him properly, not minding the way a few voices whooped and whistled. “Think you need to drink some champagne and shake some hands, but after that I’ve got a few reasons to show you too.”

He kissed her once more on the mouth, then on her forehead. “I love you, Darcy.”

Leaning in against his shoulder, she took a deep breath and hoped that nobody was going to need anything from them for the next few days. “I love you too, Bucky. It’s about time you got home.”


	42. Chapter 42

“Alright, I think everybody’s exhausted here.” Steve looked around at the little crowd on the landing pad, raising his eyebrow at Bucky on the word _exhausted_ , like he was putting air quotes around it. It had been fifteen minutes or so of champagne and congratulations, and after the day that it had been, time was starting to lose all meaning. “Let’s call it a night, huh?”

“Thanks, pal.” Bucky gave Steve a pat on the shoulder with his left hand, not really willing to take his right hand out of Darcy’s grasp any time soon. “For everything.”

Since getting off the jet – since walking out of the hearings, to be honest – all Bucky had cared about was having Darcy as close to him as humanly possible, but it wasn’t till they were walking across the dark lawn towards her building that he really got a good look at her: her hair in a cascade of soft waves down her back, a little smudge of makeup making her eyes look huge behind her glasses, a loose dress alternating between floating over her curves and clinging to them, depending how the breeze hit it. She was a dream, and she was his. “Thought you said you were a mess.”

“World’s quickest shower,” Darcy replied. “Trust me, it wouldn’t have been quite the right welcome home otherwise.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Nothing could’ve made this a bad welcome home, so long as you’re with me. _Nothing._ ” He was aware that he was probably overdue for a shower himself, but maybe it was time to break his self-imposed rule now that his future was a little more defined. “Do you mind if I clean up a bit at your place?”

She squeezed his hand. “You don’t need to clean up for me, but if you want to wash this last few days off, I wouldn’t blame you.” After a pause, she looked sideways at him; he could just see her curious expression as they came into the light near her building. “So, does this mean you’re up for using my shower now? Maybe leaving a change of clothes at my place, that sort of thing?”

“Yeah.” His reluctance to do it before seemed so stupid now, and he wondered how to possibly explain it. “Kinda thought I might jinx myself if I did it earlier, getting settled in with you. Wasn’t because I didn’t want to.”

“That’s good,” she replied. The way she was smiling at him was almost like she had a secret, but he suspected he was probably grinning like an idiot just being in her presence again. “But you’d better make that a quick shower, so I don’t start thinking I just imagined you coming home. Unless you want me to join you in there…?” Scanning her palm to unlock the door of her room, she raised an eyebrow.

The idea made him dig his teeth into his lower lip, but he shook his head. “Maybe next time. But right now I want… just want to get into bed and take our time. I know this isn’t our first time, but…” He trailed off, trying to figure out how to put it into words: it wasn’t their first time, but in his head it kind of felt like it, almost like the stretch of time leading up to the hearings had been a prelude and now this was the start of the main event, now that he could look ahead into a future. One that he wanted her in.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. Go on, then.”

She must have been expecting things to play out this way, because there were already a couple of clean towels folded on the counter, and when he stepped in to turn on the water he found the same shampoo as he usually used, and some woodsy-smelling body wash that was at odds with all the other products in the shower caddy. Like bringing him cookies, or lending him her favourite book, it was the sort of simple gesture that took on worlds more impact after how long it had been since anybody had taken the time to anticipate his needs or offer him any kind of small kindnesses. The water felt good, but he knew that crawling into bed with Darcy was going to feel better, so he made it quick: a basic wash and a rough towel off, before he tucked the towel round his waist and stepped back out into her room.

“Damn.” She drew the word out as she eyed him up and down like she’d never seen him undressed before.

“I could say the same, sweetheart.” She was already in bed, the sheet just barely covering her. It was perfect: softer and more _home_ than if she’d been dolled up in lingerie. “Don’t even know what I wanna do first.”

“Lose that towel and get in here. That’s what you should do first.”

The lady had a point. He slid in beside her, and even the soft brush of her sheets over his skin felt like a dream compared to the past few days. Putting his arms round her and pulling her close was better, though. “You have to work tomorrow?”

“I think everybody’ll give me a pass. Have you got plans for my day?” Her voice was teasing, as she reached up to run her fingertips through his damp hair.

Bucky sighed, and leaned into her touch. “Well, right now I’ve got plans to make love to you, and then fall asleep in your arms. But once I get a few hours of real sleep into me, I’m thinking I can _really_ show you how much I missed you this week.”

By way of answer, Darcy kissed him. It started slow and soft, almost sleepy – and honestly, he wouldn’t have even minded if they’d just drifted off from there, given that he was so tired that he could feel it in his bones, and he had a feeling she hadn’t gotten much more rest than he had. But the heat stoked up a little at a time: her tongue teasing at his lower lip, his hand finding the curve of her ass, her thigh snaking up over his so that she was opened up to him. “Want you inside me,” she purred, barely taking her mouth off of his.

“That’s exactly where I want to be,” he replied. Running his fingers down her body, all it took was a teasing brush over her pussy to know how wet she was, as ready for him as he was for her. “Let me just…”

“Don’t need to,” she replied, grabbing his wrist as he went to reach for the bedside drawer. “I had that appointment while you were gone. Clean bill of health, and don’t need condoms anymore.”

He’d completely forgotten. “Jesus. So we can just…”

“Yeah.” She rolled onto her back, and he was only too happy to follow, slotting his hips between her thighs and rocking against her by reflex, the head of his cock sliding against her clit till she hissed against his neck. “Don’t tease, Bucky. Need you _now._ ”

It would have felt selfish, would have felt like he was moving straight to his own pleasure without taking time for hers. When he’d pictured their reunion, he’d imagined worshiping her body, seeing how many times he could make her come with his hands and his mouth first. But the raw need in Darcy’s voice left no room for argument – and there’d be time for the rest in the morning. He had _time._ “Fuck. Need you too, sweetheart.” He claimed her mouth again, sucking at her lower lip in the way he knew she liked as he lined himself up. But as he pushed his cock into the wet heat of her pussy, he had to break off the kiss and gasp, his eyes almost rolling back into his head at the feeling of it. He’d always been so careful: with Darcy, and with the few women he’d had in his old life. He’d never actually done this, never experienced the slick drag of skin on skin this way, nothing in between, and as he got used to the near-delirium of it he was glad she was the first. Dared to hope she might be the last. “So good, Darcy. God.”

“God,” she echoed. “You feel so fucking good.” Each time he bottomed out, she rocked her hips up to take him just that little bit deeper, and just when he thought it couldn’t feel any better, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held him there, her breathing almost as ragged as his. And when he slid his hips back to make room to bring his thumb down to her clit, the sound she made nearly undid him then and there.

“Tell me you’re close,” he gasped, dragging his mouth across her jaw. “’Cause I’m not gonna last. Missed you too much, and you feel too good.”

“So fucking close, Bucky,” she replied, a hint of a whine in her voice that would have answered his question even if her words hadn’t. “Want you to… _fuck_ …” He could feel her thighs quivering around him and knew she was nearly there. “Want you to come inside me. Want to feel you filling me up.”

He couldn’t fight it any longer, not with her breathy voice saying _that_ into his ear. One, two, three more hard thrusts and he was letting go, and feeling the answering wave of Darcy’s orgasm following just after the first pulse of his own, her fingernails digging into his back as they rode it out together. “Love you,” he breathed, snaking his arms under her back so that he could flip them both over so that she was sprawled across his chest.

“Love you more.”

Stroking his right hand over the tangles of her hair and down her bare back, he laughed. “Not possible.”

“Call it a tie, then.” With a sigh, she slid off of him. “Back in a sec.”

He nearly dozed off, the post-orgasmic haze combining with the weight of the past few days to make his limbs heavy, but he was still awake when she slipped back in beside him and dropped a kiss on his chest. “It’s okay, go to sleep,” she said, her own voice sounding worn out as well. “I’ll be here.”

“Every morning?” The question just slipped out, like a reflex.

Darcy gave a sound in between a sigh and a laugh. “Yeah. Unless you get tired of me.”

“Not possible, doll,” he repeated. “Wherever you are is where I want to be.”

“Good. Because Tony’s got a wild idea about knocking down walls upstairs and making us an actual apartment.”

That pulled him back from the edge of sleep a little, and he wondered if he’d understood her correctly. “Yeah? For you and me?”

“I mean, I know it’s so soon, I don’t even know if Tony’s serious or anything, I’m not trying to… I mean, I don’t even care if you want to keep stuff at my place or not, so long as you’re here.”

“I do, though.” He picked her hand up off his chest, and kissed it. “I want to have all my stuff at your place. I’m not gonna have a lot of choice about where I’m living any time soon, but you’re…” Looking down to meet her gaze, he couldn’t help a big dumb smile. “You’re home to me.”

With a little sigh, Darcy snuggled in closer. “Welcome home, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! This was a really fun story to write. I'm taking a break from fanfic for NaNoWriMo, but I'm sure I'll be back to these two in the new year, if not sooner.


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